The black rose
by gusweskn1
Summary: In a world torn apart by civil war, Emma fights on the front lines along with her sisters of battle. Through flames and bolt fire the sisters fight to exterminate the heretics from their home world while Inquisitor Derik of order Hereticus arrives, suspecting a greater menace to be on the horizon.
1. Prologue

The black rose prologue

He felt warm and hard inside her. His hot breath blew across her face and his pink skin was shining with sweat.

She moaned with a false passion as he thrusted towards her. Not that he would ever have known how disingenuous she was being. His eyes were closed and his head was tilted back. A sigh passed her lips, almost as silent as a whisper and buried under the noise of his grunts.

She leaned in and reached down between her legs. She tried to get ahold of his member and give him a few hardy yanks to be done with him.

As if he knew what she was about to do, he took her by the shoulders and flipped her over in the bed. He put her on all fours with her back exposed to him. His dry, crispy hands took hold of her hips. The tips of his fingers dug into the skin, wrapping around and pressing against the bone. After a dry cough, he started pounding her from behind.

The coarse, rough hairs around his groin felt like steel wool against the skin on her behind. It hurt, it stung each time he thrusted forward.

A few moments ago, she was sick of him but now she just wanted him out. She leaned forward and felt sweat running of her forehead, down on her arm and sinking into the sheets.

He pounded faster. The noises coming out of him became deeper and louder. He started squealing like an old boar and his fingers almost cut through her skin.

Now it burned each time he pressed into her. She squinted and did her best to mute the sounds she made, trying to make every noise of pain sound like a moan of pleasure.

Finally, he sank and slacked just after he exploded inside her. The grip he had around her waist loosened.

She fell forward and felt the fluids coming out of her.

He sat grunting above her. His pale skin was shining with sweat and a little pink piece of flesh hanged underneath a black bush.

"What are you doing?" She asked.

"What?"

"Leave your money and get out." She said with a bitter tone.

Silently, he made his way out of the bed and threw his clothes back on. Before he left the room, he left a bill next to the door.

When he left, she turned in the bed and laid still on her back. She carefully touched the little scrapes he had left on her hip. Narrow little red marks where unpleasant to touch with her sweaty fingers.

But they seemed like so little when she looked down between her legs. The skin was red and sore. The fingers felt warm as they hovered above it and she flinched with pain when she tried to touch it. She reached over to her drawer and took some salve out of a jar and carefully started massaging it between her legs.

It was soothing and easing on little flame that had started between her legs but there was still a little area that was left to burn. She put both her hands over it and winced.

She rose out of the bed, feeling the sheet being peeled from her skin as she rose. She walked up to a on sink made of silvery metals and turned on the water. She cupped her hands and let the water fill up between her fingers. The water was a crisp and cold feeling on her face. It mixed with the half-dried sweat on her skin and ran down the crevasses of her face, a few streams accumulating in the corners of her mouth. The salty taste graced her tounge before she splashed another handful of water over her face.

In the mirror above the sink she gave her face an examination. Her right eye was far darker than the other, almost a little blue. The makeup had run off. She took some powder makeup and covered the darker tone of the skin around her eye. It more popular to have pale, perfect skin and her skin was pale like milk and smooth to touch. All apart from one part of her body, fortunately it was on they rarely looked at or put their hands on much.

After making herself presentable, she threw on a robe and tied a ribbon around her waist. The fabric was dark and thin, hardly enough to hide any part her body. Just enough to blur the curves of her body and mute the tone of her skin.

She left the room and walked down an empty hallway. To her sides were closed doors, the muted sounds of moans and climaxes coming from the other side. Not wanting to linger, she quickly made her way to the end of the hall and reached the public area of the brothel.

After a quick glance over the men in the area, she was both disappointed and weary. They were all the same size and shape as the one she just had.

 _The kind of men who will tear and scratch._ She thought. She was about walk up to the smallest, most timid man she could find when something caught her sight in the corner of her eye.

A woman in an expensive, fine dress sitting in one of the booths. The dress was made of a crimson, shining fabric. Patterns of golden twines spread across her sides and up to her shoulders. It looked as if they almost moved and climbed across her. She had long, wavy dark brown hair and a sharp pair of sharp, emerald green eyes. At first, she seemed to be there alone but then she noticed an enormous armed man next to her, a body guard.

Was this an Astartes? Was he one of the men in the service of the holy Emperor? She had never seen one of them before. But there was still the question, why was a woman with the money to afford a guard and clothes like hers doing in a brothel?

Whatever the reason, she walked up to her and performed the most graceful bow she could muster.

"Hmm…" The woman said, examining her with her fingers gently rubbing her lips. She wore red lipstick. The same shade as her dress, making it look blood-red when contrasted against her pale skin.

Her lips parted, ready to greet the Lady but she quickly shut her mouth. She knew very little of the noble´s way of acting around others but she figured talking before being spoken would be taken as a sing of disrespect.

The Lady leaned forward. Her green eyes moving slowly across her body. Starting from her feet before moving up to her hips and then her stomach.

She bit her lip before the Lady´s eyes moved upwards to her breasts and shoulders. Their eyes meet and the Lady smiled.

"What would you do if I told you to stand on your left leg?" The Lady asked. Her voice was coy.

She put on a courteous smile and lifted her right leg, leaning on the left.

The Lady pushed a string of brown hair behind her ear. Her fingers started tracing the line of her face, out to the tip of her chin as a subtle smile started to grow on her lips. She started playing with a lock of her hair.

"If I tell you your name is Velka, what would you do?" The Lady asked.

She put her leg down and took a moment to think on what to answer. "Good evening, my lady." She gave the Lady another bow. "My name is Velka."

The smile on the Lady´s mouth grew wider while the brute of a man next to her adjusted himself in his seat.

The Lady rose from her booth and walked up to Velka. She walked around her. Observing and examining her every feature of Velkas body all while a sharp nail traced around her neck. Starting on her chest and moving to the tip of her shoulder before tracing down her shoulder blades, down to her spine and finally back to her chest. The Lady put two fingers under Velkas chin and held her lips up to her own, putting the Lady´s lips just close enough to let warmth of her breath stroke Velkas lips. The Lady blinked slowly.

"I´ll take you. Velka." The Lady said and pulled away. "Show me to your room."

Velka bowed again, making sure that this time she was bowing deeper than before. She had to show her gratitude that the Lady had elected her.

She took lead with the Lady walking slowly behind her. The guard following behind them, his weapon holstered but ready to be drawn at a moment's notice.

When they got to the door, Velka opened the door and stepped in first. She made another bow and held the door opened for the Lady.

The Lady took her first step into the door and held up a hand to stop her guard from following her.

"But my Lady?" He blurted.

"What was that?" The Lady said without turning to face him.

"I am ordered to follow you at all times."

The Lady made a sharp turn to face him. Her eyes drawn narrow and sharp. She took a step back and pushed the door into his face.

Velka swallowed quietly to herself. "What is it my Lady wishes of me?" She avoided her gaze by looking to the floor.

Her face was lifted by the Lady´s fingers again. The green eyes locking her in place with their gaze,

The Lady leaned forward and kissed Velka on the lips. A sweet, sugary taste of the Lady´s lips spread through Velkas mouth as she felt the Lady´s hand caressing her neck. The curved, sharp nails tracing down to her shoulders and slowly pushing back the robe.

Velka felt her fist closing and her heart beating like a drum inside her chest.

The kiss broke of and the Lady looked at Velka with a coy, satisfied smile.

Velka glanced down and quickly realized that the robe was only clinging to her from the knot around her waist.

The Lady sat down on the bed and presented her back to Velka.

It was far from the first woman she had served but it was the first time she served a lady. She wasn´t sure of what the Lady desired. Going with her instinct, Velka started gently caressing the Lady´s shoulders and leaned forward to kiss her neck.

The Lady tilted her head back and glanced down at Velka. She reached over her head and pushed her hair over one shoulder.

Velka knew exactly what the Lady wanted. With the tips of her fingers just hovering above the Lady´s skin Velka started untying the strings that held the dress up. It was a long string, crisscrossing across her back from the top of her shoulder blades to down the loin. After a few minutes, the Lady´s back was exposed and the dress was just hanging of her shoulders.

Velka leaned forward again, pulling down the dress and brushing her nipples against the skin of the Lady´s back. In the corner of her eye, Velka could see the Lady biting her lip with closed eyes. Encouraged by the response, Velka reached over the Lady´s shoulder with one hand and pulled the Lady´s dress back with the other.

The Lady moaned and clutched her fist on the sheet.

Her hand went between the Lady´s legs. It was arm and moist. She tickled the inside of the Lady´s thigh and kissed the neck. Velka was about to enter her when the Lady put her hand around Velkas wrist.

"No." The Lady said with cold tone.

She froze and thick lump formed in her throat. Had she done something wrong? Was the Lady displeased with her efforts?

The Lady didn´t say another word. She simply pulled Velkas hand out from under her dress and took the other hand of her breasts.

Terrified, Velka sat still like a statue as the Lady pushed herself out of the bed.

The moment she was of the bed, the Lady let the dress slip of her arms. The fabric folded of her like a snake shedding its skin. It clung to her hip for a few seconds before it fell to the floor with a quiet, almost silent thud. And then the Lady stood there with her back to Velka, completely naked.

She had a beautifully curved body. Her skin, cream white. Her hair flowing like a golden-brown river from her head down to her shoulders. Her hands moved along the sides of her body, starting from the stomach and slowly tracing their way down to her legs.

The Lady moaned and looked over her shoulder, staring into Velkas eyes.

While Velka hadn´t dared to move, the Lady´s eyes seemed to almost lock her in place.

A coy smile grew on the Lady´s lips.

Velka had to be blind and deaf to not know that the Lady was enjoying herself. Yet, she sat frozen in place. Not daring to move from the position the Lady had left her in.

The Lady turned to face Velka. She walked towards the bed with carefully measured grace. Each step made with almost unnatural balance.

Despite the Lady walking completely naked towards her, Velka eyes remained locked with the Lady´s cold, unflinching gaze.

She climbed onto the bed and placed her hand on Velkas shoulder. Her long and slender fingers falling down on her skin and the nails digging in. She glanced down at Velkas stomach and quickly looked back up at Velka.

Looking down, Velka realized that the robe was still tied around her waist. Suddenly, her arms jumped back to life and fumbled with the knot for a moment before untying it. She looked at the Lady and saw her smile. Encouraged, Velka pulled the robe back and leaned forward a little bit, just enough to let the Lady know what she was trying to do.

The free hand moved alongside Velkas face and pushed through her hair. She could feel the hand moving behind her head and Velka took a breath through her nose.

The Lady pulled Velkas head towards her and kissed her a second time.

Once again, Velka felt the sweet taste in her mouth. She could also feel a set of talon-like fingers creeping on the inside of her thighs. Upwards, towards the center.

* * *

The Lady stood just before the door. She looked over her shoulder and stared back at Velka.

She laid naked on the bed. Her ribcage jumping up and down and her skin shining with sweat. Her face wincing with pain and turned red, her arms pale.

"Thank you." The Lady said and put a set of bills next to the door. "It was… good." She opened the door and left.

She rose from the bad and put her hands between her legs, just above the skin and her mouth moved as if she was screaming. Sharp breaths passed between her teeth as she bent forward, trying her best not to touch anything yet fighting the urge to clutch it. There was only one time before she could recall this kind of pain.

Limping, she climbed out of the bed and put her clothes back on. Not the thin robe this time. A far more commonplace dress with set of comparably soft smallclothes.

With every step sending jolts of pain, she left the room, locked the door and walked up to her private quarters. It was only a floor above but the climb on the stair felt like walking barefoot on broken glass.

Eventually she made it up walked into her own private chambers. When she closed the door she saw her, standing in the middle of the hallway brushing nots out of her hair. _Pointless._ She thought. _No one wants her now._

"Hello mother." The young woman said.

"Hello Emma." She said, trying to hide the pain in her voice.

Emma turned to look at her. Her face quickly turned pale. "What happened?"

She was quiet for a moment. It was not unusual for her to lock ragged and weary by the end of the day, especially not now, but Emma had grown used to the sight. The fact she reacted now was both surprising and scary to her. What if she would always look this horrible? Who would want her if she did?

"A noble Lady gave me money for letting her do things to me." She answered.

Emma´s fingers closed to a fist but they opened faster than they closed. "How much did she pay?"

She sighed. "More than I´ve made since the last moon." _And caused me more pain then I´ve felt in years._

"Why does the God-Emperor allow this?" Emma asked, avoiding her mother´s gaze. "Why does someone so mighty allow those with power to abuse those without?"

Her eyes rolled a little bit at those words. Emma was still young, barely fourteen. She still didn´t understand why the those with power like to play with those below them, even as Emma herself had chased girls smaller than her around when she was younger.

"I don´t know." She said. "The Emperor protects those that serve him. We are no servants of his… and neither are they."

Emma grunted. Though it was only a small noise, it was clear for her mother that she was furious.

She put a hand on Emma´s shoulder.

Emma´s little blue eyes looked up.

Her mother carefully wrapped her arms around Emma. Her fingers pushing through Emma´s thick, blond hair. Tickling her scalp just enough to bring a little smile to Emma´s lips. "We have some money now." She whispered in Emma´s ear. "We just have to make sure others don´t see it." She pulled back and saw that Emma was smiling. A sight she found more rare and precious then the pale full moon.

"Alright." Emma rubbed her hands on her round, bulging stomach. She flinched. "I think I felt it moving."

She chuckled. Happy, knowing that her daughter would have someone to help her with her childbirth. "Have you picked a name yet?"

Emma opened her mouth quickly closed it. She pushed a string of her hair behind her ear and stared away from her mother. "No not yet."


	2. Chapter 1

The black rose chapter 1

"Still alive?" Johana asked.

Emma struggled to her knees. Her face splashed with blood and her armor dented on her chest and arm. The blows she had taken made it difficult for her to rise.

"The Emperor must love you." She took her sister by the arm and pulled her to her feet.

"The Emperor loves all his servants." Emma replied. "It´s by his strength we can smite the heretics." She glanced over at the body lying next to her. A man, on his stomach with a sword sprouting from his back like a tree.

"The wrath of the righteous purges those whose live is a lie." Johana said, quoting an old scripture. She turned the body over and pulled the sword out.

"Indeed." Emma concurred as she pulled the sword from the man's stomach. Her fingers flexing as they wrapped around the hilt. "May the Emperor have no mercy on his soul."

Johana laid a hand on her own the pommel of her own sword. She muttered a silent prayer and looked over the rest of the battlefield. Thought calling it a battlefield may have been generous.

It was a field covered in black sot and grey ash. The ecclesiarchal sisters patrolled it like predators. The orange glow of liquid promethium radiating from the muzzles of their flamers. The moment one of them spotted movement, a jet of white, glowing liquid poured over it.

Men and women ran. They screamed as the flames ate of their flesh and boiled their fat. Those few that managed to run were either moved down by a sister´s bolter or cleaved in half by the swing of a power sword.

A few hours earlier, the field had been covered in green, vibrant bushes. Their branches and veins climbing up manufactured fences. The once that didn´t hold purple, dark grapes held little clusters of green, bead like shapes. Every one of them used to have green-white roods sticking out from them. Now it was all black ash. The fences that weren´t swallowed by the fire were crumbling into pieces of glowing embers.

Emma walked up behind Johana and rested one hand on Johana´s shoulder. The other clutched the sword. "Fire purges." She said with a cold voice and rehearsed manner.

"Fire cleanses." Johana replied.

Emma raised her sword and pushed it back into its scabbard. She wiped her hand across her face and scrapped some of the dried blood.

Johana looked over at her sister. Despite the blood spread across her hair, Johana was still envious of the golden color that managed to shine through. Her own hair was dark, almost black. Emma also had sharp, blue eyes and soft features. Johana had a pair of brown eyes and a scar over her check.

Johana reached over and wiped some of the dried blood out of Emma´s hair. Underneath the crusted blood, Emma´s hair was silky and shiny. Emma smiled as Johana touched her.

"That tickles." She said.

"Sorry." Johana pulled her hand back.

Emma was about to say something when a familiar and harsh voice shouted behind them.

"Can two still fight?" It shouted.

The pair looked behind then and saw the Canoness standing behind them. She was far older than any of the sisters yet it rarely showed. Her face was usually hidden behind a Helmet and when it wasn´t she draped herself in a thick vail, hiding everything apart from her eyes. Apart from her voice and the white hawk spreading over her breastplate it was difficult to tell her apart from the other sisters.

"Well can you?" She asked again.

"Well Emma has taken a few-" Johana started but was cut off.

"We can still fight." Emma said.

"Then follow me." The Canoness raised her bolter and slammed a fresh clip into it. "The remaining heretics are making a last stand in the town just beyond this field. We will grant them absolution through the sacred flames of the Emperor."

"All heretics crave absolution." Emma said. "We shall deliver."

The Canoness walked past the pair and they followed her like eager dogs.

The field was covered in a layer of black sot. With neither of them wearing helmets the smell of burning flesh and fat ran thick through the air. Johana felt her nose twitch at the smell of the burning grapes in combination with the scents of boiling fat and burning flesh. A mixture of sweet and salt. A perversion.

Their steeps brushed away the layer of ash and let exposed the grass hidden underneath. Little embers glowed and were crushed beneath their feet. The grey smoke rose from the little islands of fire stung in Johana´s eyes. Enough to make her rub them out of irritation.

She glanced over at Emma and saw a thin tear rolling down her red eyes.

As they walked across the field the Canoness urged another five sisters to follow her. Each of them armed with heavy flamers and their heads covered by helmets like the Canoness.

They reached the edge of the field and they saw the heretic´s holdout. The Canoness calling it a town was exaggeration. It was more like a large, deprived village. The houses were that weren´t in a severe state of disrepair were withered down and could only at best give a slight protection against the elements.

The Canoness ordered them to stop by holding up a closed fist. "Emma, Johana." She addressed them without turning.

"Yes, Canoness." Emma answered.

"You two will lead the charge with me. The rest of you will follow us from behind. Set those houses ablaze and kill any heretic that tries to escape." She looked over her shoulder.

"Understood Canoness." Emma answered. Both her and Johana gave the Canoness a small nod.

The Canoness glanced over at the other sisters and they gave her the same response.

"Well then." The Canoness took her bolter in one hand and drew her sword with the other. Emma and Johana drew their swords.

"Charge!" The Canoness shouted and ran forward with her bolter in front of her and her sword above her.

Emma and Johana ran behind her.

The Canoness kicked down the door to the first building she reached. She was faced with five men and she gave them a hail with her bolter. The shells exploding inside them and splattering their insides against the walls.

Emma and Johana burst into the building next to the one the Canoness attacked. The door disappeared in an explosion of splinters as Emma´s shoulder came ramming into it.

Johana followed her in, ready to strike down the heretics. She was running after her sister when Emma stopped and stared around the room they had entered. Johana threw a quick glance around and just as puzzled as Emma.

The room was empty, not a single piece of furniture in it. There was only the splinters that were spread across the floor.

They both walked forward, neither of them uttering a single word.

Johana gripped her sword with both hands and put the guard next to her face, putting the tip of the sword forward.

Emma imitated her motion and put herself in front. "Second floor." She pointed towards the stair on the far end of the room and started briskly walking towards it.

Johana followed, positioning herself right behind Emma. The pair charged up the stair, their armored boots cracking the floor beneath them.

When Emma reached the second floor she kicked the door in and ran forward with her sword high above her head. The blade alive with flickers of blue light dancing across the edge. The flashes made a screeching noise, like a flock of birds screaming with terror.

The blade meet a raised hand and cut clean through it. The flesh and bones gave no resistance. The man gave of a loud scream before Emma pinned him to the ground with her sword.

Another man came stepped forward. He had a crude, curved weapon in his hands and he was running strait for Emma.

Johana stepped forward, her blade cutting clean through the metal of the heretic's weapon. The heretic only had time made a wide-eyed face before Johana swung her sword again. His head rolled across the floor.

Emma pulled the sword out of the heretic and glanced back at her sister.

Johana looked back at her. Though Emma's face was still splashed in blood she was still pleasant to look at.

Suddenly, Emma lashed forward. She gripped Johana by the shoulder and threw her out of the way.

Johana was thrown aside. The force of Emma's pull had thrown her of balance and she crashed onto the floor. Her sword slipped out of her fingers as the side of her head slammed into the floorboards. For a brief moment, the world was silent and white. She bit down to endure the pain and closed her eyes to shut out the light. Soon the pain eased and the light faded. She opened her eyes and saw the bodies of the heretics. Emma was nowhere in sight. She turned over and found her sister standing completely still. And in front of her Johana saw what caused Emma to push her aside.

It was a young boy, hardly more than ten years old. He had short, blond hair, stained by dirt and blue eyes. A piece of wood, much too large for him to properly wield, laid next to his feet.

Blood dripped from the boy's chin.

Emma's sword had cut clean down his shoulder, to the center of his chest. It was the only thing stopping the boy from falling to the floor.

Emma stood almost perfectly still, all apart from her sword arm shacking. The blade was dull and quiet. Steam rose from the parts covered in blood.

"Emma?" Johana asked and as if waken from dream, Emma snapped back to life. The sword was pulled from the boy and he fell silent to the floor. Blood slowly trickling put from his wound and mouth, forming a pool of crimson on the floor.

Emma´s right hand, the hand holding her sword, started opening. The fingers that had wrapped themselves around the hilt of sword started folding outwards. The sword rolled out of Emma´s grip and spun around before it hit the ground.

Johana got up and placed a hand on Emma´s shoulder. Her sister´s eyes stared at the boy. Not blinking, not moving.

"Did I kill him?" Emma asked, coldly. "Did I kill the boy?"

Johana struggled to find any words. Her mouth opened and closed three times before something finally escaped.

"You…" The words stopped on her tongue. "You purged him of his sins."

Emma´s gaze turned to Johana. The look on her face had drained all the color from it. Only a thin mask of skin remained draped on it.

"His sins were of the ones who guided him." Johana said, trying to desperately to remain calm. "His parents, his teachers. Those that taught him heretical knowledge."

"Are you saying he couldn´t help it?" Emma looked back at the body.

"A child is innocent." Johana assured. "He only understood what he was taught. He was blind to the light of the Emperor. But you absorbed him of his errors and let the boy into his holy light."

The fingers that had gripped the sword closed. Emma stared down at the sword lying next to her feet. She picked it up and pushed the blade back into its sheath without wiping the blood of the blade. She then reached over and closed the boy´s eyes. "Then let us pray." Emma sat down on her knees and took out a necklace tucked underneath the collar of her armor. The necklace was a string with nine beads attached, each one of a different color.

Johana sat down next to her. She pulled out a necklace that was identical to Emma´s and let the beads sink between her fingers.

"Holy Emperor." Emma began. "This boy was corrupted by those who would not accept your light. He was deceived by ignorance. We beg you, guard his soul. Absorb him of his sins and let him be at peace in the immaterium."

"Have no mercy," Johana said. "On those that sought to block your light from him. Let their souls be tormented through eternity. Strip away all their errors and hypocrisies and expose them to the lie that was their life."

"Emperor guard him." Emma finished. She tucked the necklace back and walked briskly out.

Johana hurried after her.

Once they were both outside, they were meet by the Canoness. Her armor was splattered with blood and smoke rose from the barrel of her bolter. "Anyone left in there?" The Canoness asked, her voice distorted by an error in her vox-grill.

"No one." Emma answered. She glanced around and saw the rest of village burning. White flames bursting from the out from the windows and doors. Streams of the flames licked the wood and spewed black smoke.

"Then we will set the house aflame." The Canoness said.


	3. Chapter 2

The black rose chapter 1

 _It looks so strangely peaceful from here._ The Inquisitor thought as he stared down on the planet. _Almost hard to believe it's a world at war._

He leaned on the glass window and stared. First down at the planet and then into the void. The black, seemingly endless void. Only a few distant stars betrayed it. Staring back at the world he could see the white clouds rolling over the planes, the oceans and the mountains. He could see the orb slowly moving, like it was spinning towards his ship.

The sight made him chuckle. Compared to the void, the planet might as well have been battleground covered in fire and flame.

"What is it you find amusing?" A synthetic voice asked.

The Inquisitor didn´t turn to answer. "Irony, tech-priest." The tone of his voice did nothing to hide his sarcasm. "Irony."

The tech-priest produced a noise. It was a buzzing, annoying noise, but its intent was clear. The tech-priest was snickering. Laughing, albeit an unnatural mechanical laughter.

"Do you find that funny?" The Inquisitor asked.

"Yes." The tech-priest replied with cold, drab voice.

The answer puzzled the Inquisitor. He had never experienced a tech-priest being amused, let alone laughing. He found it both intriguing and unnerving.

"What is it you find funny about it?"

"Because you speak of irony when you are still mostly made of water and fat." The tech-priest replied.

The Inquisitor turned and looked at the tech-priest. While this one wore the same crimson robe as the other of its kind and it was more or less impossible to tell how much of it still remained human or if there were any parts that where still human left in it. Though he could tell this one apart from the others by the third, metallic arm protruding out from its back and the pair of yellow, dotted eyes the stared out from the hood.

"I am not sure why you find that funny." The Inquisitor crossed his arms over his chest.

"You are a walking contradiction. Inquisitor Derik." The yellow eyes moved unpaired with each other as they examined the Inquisitors movements. "That is what I find funny."

That answer just perplexed him even more. _The worshipers of the Machine-God have a strange sense of humor. Maybe the parts of that are still human just seek out laughter wherever they can find it._ Still, there was something intriguing about this tech-priest. Mostly the fact that this one seemed to still be able to laugh.

"What is your name tech-priest?"

"Tayber, Inquisitor Derik."

"Well Tayber," Derik tested the name. It still gave him little clue weather the tech-priest had started as a woman or a man. _I´ll just assume it's a man on some level._ "Do you like games?"

The yellow dots snapped to Derik's eyes. "What kind of game?"

"A game I discovered quiet recently. We both play with 16 figurines each across a squared board and try to take out each other's figurines. The exact name of escapes me though…" Derik rubbed his stubbed chin.

"I know of it." The tech-priest said. "It's an ancient game originating from Terra."

"Are interested in a game then?"

"I have duties to attended before we land on Prostoru." Tayber released his eyes from Derik´s. "Besides, I´ve played the game for a long time. You´d be humiliated if you tried to challenge me."

"In that case what do you have to lose?" Derik shrugged. "It'll be a few hours before we enter the atmosphere, and considering what you´re saying the game should not last more than a few turns. And I´m aiming to master this game."

"Master?" Derik suspected if Tayber still had brows they would be leaping to the top of his forehead, if he had a visible head. "That will take years, decades of dedicated play. Do you have that time?"

"I don´t know." Derik replied. "When I was a young, still being taught, one of my teachers said that best way to learn is to learn from the best. Even if they're not teaching they can display techniques and give you experience like no other."

The yellow dots purred as they moved around under the crimson hood.

 _I´ve got his interest now._ Derik thought. "Soo are you interested?"

"Yes."

"Good." Derik put the board on the table and prepared his figures. Made of black marble and carefully carved, even a blind man could put his hands on the figures and tell the difference between a Adeptus Astartes and a Adeptus Sororitas in a mere moment.

Tayber prepared his own. They were identical to Derik´s pieces apart from their color. The tech-priest figures were made off white marble. With mechanical limbs the tech-priest finished setting up his pieces before Derik was even halfway done.

"White goes first." Derik gestured to Tayber with a little nod.

The tech-priest made no remark on it. He looked at the board with one eyes and stared at Derik with the other. After a few moments, Tayber made his first move. He moved one of his guardsmen two squares forward.

Derik glanced down at the board, and then back at Tayber. It was frustratingly difficult, trying to read anything from the tech-priest. There were hardly any remnants of a face to speak of and whatever was left was hidden beneath the shadow of the hood. He moved his own guardsmen two squares forward, putting it diagonally next to Taybers.

"Tell me, tech-priest, when did you first learn of this game?"

"A long time before you were born." Tayber moved another of his guardsmen forward, this one only one step.

"Oh, I´m a lot older then I look." Derik replied and took out Taybers guardsmen with his own. "But for all I know, you could be a hundred years old or a thousand years old. Those augmentations slow down aging a fair bit I assume."

Both of Taybers eyes now looked back up at Derik. They held on him for a short moment before they returned to the board. "Age becomes irrelevant when you remove the weak flesh from your bones and replace it with the blessing of the machine spirit. Only knowledge and skill matters then." The slender, black metallic fingers of his left hand moved the Adeptus Astartes over the front of guardsmen.

 _Wonder if that was the tech-priest found so funny?_ Derik rubbed his chin and stared down at the board. _Purity?_ He moved another guardsman forward, opening a path for his Adeptus Sororita.

The yellow eyes darted across the board. They jumped from one figure to another, locking on for a short moment before moving on to the next one. After less than half a minute the tech-priest had gone over the entire board. Tayber moved another of his guardsmen forward, clearing the path for his Dreadnought.

 _He likes this game._ Derik thought. _Correction, he loves it._

"What was it like?" Derik asked.

"What was what like?" Tayber responded.

"Before you received the blessing of the machine spirit, what was it like to live? You said time becomes irrelevant when the blessing is on you but surely you must remember something before you became relieved of flesh." Derik made the move he suggested the previous turn and moved his Adeptus Sororita forward. Into the open.

"It is not a time I consider or concern myself with." Tayber moved his dreadnought forward.

"Why?" Derik asked, moving his own guardsmen forward. A simple response to whatever tactics Tayber was playing at.

"Do you consider the time before you were born? Are there memories past your own entrance into the matterium that concern you?"

Derik had to stop himself from laughing. Only a brief, muted chuckle escaped. For a moment, he was worried that Tayber might have heard it but he was far too busy looking over the board again. _There is much beyond the point of my birth that concern me, tech-priest. History and experience are what we use to determine the future._ Now it was almost impossible for Derik not to snicker. _You call me a walking contradiction, still you value knowledge while considering your own past to be irrelevant. You are hysterical._

When Derik looked back down at the board he could see that Tayber had moved his guardsmen forward, putting them in line to attack Derik´s own guardsmen but if he did that he would be exposing the piece the dreadnought.

"To answer your question, Tayber." Derik used his guardsmen to take out Taybers, putting the piece in line for the dreadnought. "I agree. There is a point to what you are saying. The past is not much more than a shadow in the light of the future, why should we concern ourselves with the shape of it?"

The eyes stared back at Derik. This time they were not locked on, the perfectly stiff movement seemingly melted away as the cogs and joints started buzzing like beetle wings and shafts moving like a pair of metallic worms.

"It's your turn." Derik remarked after a few moments of silence.

Tayber looked back down on the board. The bundle of wires and metallic tentacles that were supposed to be hands hovered over the bone-white figures. Instead of using the dreadnought to remove the guardsmen, like Derik had expected, Tayber used his Astartes to leap over his own guardsmen and take remove Derik´s.

In part Derik was surprised and in part he was unimpressed. He looked over the path that his Astartes could take from there and shortly realized that Tayber had doomed a valuable piece for small achievement. _Not quite what I had excepted._

He took out the Astartes with his guardsmen and waited for Taybers next move.

The tech-priest, seemingly realizing the mistake, used his remaining Astartes to move in the way for Derik´s Sororita.

Derik took a moment. He moved up one if his guardsmen to block the Astartes path, but also exposing his emperor as a result. It was always risky, this part of the game, when one player decided to move up his forces and ended up exposing his emperor as a result. But it came with its own advantages.

Tayber moved his dreadnought forward, taking out Derik´s guardsmen that had taken out the tech-priest´s Astartes.

Derik held the fallen guardsmen in his hand. "You know there are people who think this game is good practice for learning strategy?" He moved the untouched Sororitas forward, making it a target for Taybers Astartes.

"What kind of strategy?" Tayber asked.

"The kind used in warfare." Derik replied as Tayber made his move. The tech-priest moved his Astartes and Derik realized his own mistake. He miscalculated the movements of his guardsmen and realized there was nothing to take out the Astartes when it had removed the Sororitas.

"How exactly?" The tech-priest locked his eyes back on Derik.

"I´m not sure." Derik answered. "In a battle the opposition don´t play by the same rules, they don´t have the same troops, they don´t fight on an equal battlefield. There´s almost nothing about it that resembles an actual battle."

"It's your turn, Inquisitor." Tayber reminded him.

Derik looked down on the fallen Sororita and let his hand hover over the piece. He moved the Sororita forward and placed her in line with Taybers emperor. Only a single guardsman stood in the way.

"Although, there are two things this game has in common with the theaters of war." Derik noted.

"And what is that?" Tayber asked, moving his Astartes forward. It took Derik little thought to realize that the tech-priest was aiming to use to piece to take out his emperor.

Derik answered Taybers move by moving his own Astartes forward. "It teaches you to value of individual pieces."

Tayber noticed the advance Derik was making with the Astartes and used his own to take the piece out.

"And it teaches you to sacrifice our troops." Derik moved his Sororita forward two squares. "I win."

The tech-priest scanned across the board. Apart from the buzzing and purring of his joints, the tech-priest was quiet. His slinky right hand hovered over the board, stopping for a brief moment before moving on to another piece. Eventually his hand retreated back beneath into his sleeve. "You are right, Inquisitor." The yellow dots locked onto Derik´s eyes again. "Seems I´ve lost."

"You played well." Derik gave the tech-priest a courteous nod.

"Goodbye, Inquisitor." The tech-priest rose and left Derik in his chamber.

 _A good player and a sense of humor._ Derik thought when Tayber was gone. _But to proud and arrogant to see when he´s being played. Shame._

He got up and walked back up to the window. He stared at Prostoru and drew another chuckle. This one was small and dry. _Compared to what this planet neighbors, it might as well be paradise._

He stared away from the planet, beyond the void and gazed into light coming from the enormous pink firestorm, slowly shifting across the black void. The waves consumed and birthed little stars with flickers of their tongues. Though the storm was pink, the flames shifted to other unnatural colors. Merely looking at it made it feel like there where ants trying to tunnel their way out of his stomach. _Everything is peace compared to the eye._


	4. Chapter 3

The black rose chapter 3

The box was covered in dirt. The silvery metal peaked between a layer of watery mud. Emma grunted as she pulled the box free from the wall of collapsing mud. She whipped the top of it with her hand and read the label edged into it. "Departmento Munitorum X Bolt Shells." Encouraged, Emma tried opening the box but was stopped by a padlock.

After giving it a few hard yanks, Emma took a knife out from her belt and slammed the pommel into the padlock. It took her three hard smacks to get it off and when she did, Emma threw the lock away and started flipped the lock open.

She took the boltpistol from her belt, tossed the empty magazine and took a fresh one from the box. The metals clicked as Emma slammed it in. _Manufactured by heretics._ Emma thought. _Meant to kill us._ Emma holstered her boltpistol. _Weapons are good. The feeling of death doesn't linger when I use them._

"Emma?" Anna entered the dugout. She was the standard bearer and clad in the black armor and the fiery orange robes of their order. Her face was hidden behind a helmet, similar to the Canonesses'. If not for her voice and the banner in her hand, Emma wouldn´t have recognized her.

"We´re getting ready for to assault the hill." Anna said.

"Let's bring them redemption." Emma put her own helmet on. She had to apply a little pressure before the joints of her armor connected to the helmet´s own. There was a sucking sound as the pressure in her suit equalized and respirator started taking air in. At first her sight was a black void until the circuitry buzzed back to life and gave her a clearer, sharper vision of the world then before.

They walked out the door and walked along the trench. Rain poured from the ground, turning the floor of the trench into a muddy river. The bodies of dead heretics were being purged and the bodies of fallen sisters were being prepared for sacred burials. Anna led Emma to the circle of sisters that had gathered around their Canoness.

Emma looked around her and saw Johana. She was clad in full armor but Emma recognized her by the pattern of a burning sword sown into her robes and the silvery, metallic wings on her shoulder pads.

The Canoness was standing on a ladder, peaking over the edge of the trench. A little bang of sparks left a dashed mark on her helmet as a stray bullet glanced of the metal. She turned and looked back down on the sisters surrounding her.

She jumped of the ladder and looked over the twenty sisters that had gathered around her. Emma and Johana were standing in the center, at the front of the row. "Sisters!" She shouted with a voice loud enough to be a roar. "What are you?"

" _Sisters of the Hawk!_ " They roared in response, their voices layering on top of one another and drowning out the noise of the rain.

"And what are those?" She pointed over the edge of the trench.

" _Heretics to the Emperor!_ "

For a moment, there was a silence before a shell landed on the far side of the trench. The impact trembled the ground and tossed dirt into the air only for it to come down with the rain.

"They are betrayers!" The Canoness shouted when the dirt stopped falling from the air. "They a filth! We are the Sisters of Battle! We are the daughters of the Emperor! We are the chosen! They are the forsaken! They´ve abandoned the Emperor's light and walked into the shadows of the dark gods!"

Emma felt her fist flexing.

"Those that have fall in service of the Emperor are bathed in his light! Those with who blind themselves with ignorance will burn in eternal flames!"

" _Fire purges! Fire cleanses!_ "

The Canoness drew her sword. The blade flickered alive by the sound of a thousand birds as she held the weapon above her head. "Come with me sisters! Let them know the strength of the Emperor! Let them feel His wrath!"

The sisters gave a thunderous roar in response. Emma put her right hand around the sword. She could fell the muscles tensing and flexing.

"With me!" The Canoness turned and climbed over the edge of the trench. The other sisters followed her, climbing the ladders with their bolters and swords.

Emma drew her sword before she had even climbed the trench. She scrambled up the ladder and ran forward as white-hot bullets either flew past her or glanced off against her armor. Falling mortar shells crashed into the ground and released splashes of dirt at their points of impact, creating little craters with every explosion.

Emma couldn´t see the other trench. She couldn´t even see the source of the bullets zooming past her. Both were obscured by a wall of grey smoke hovering just above the ground.

The Canoness still lead the charge. Without slowing down, she ran into the smoke and disappeared as if it had swallowed her.

Emma followed her into the smoke and for a moment, her vision was a blurred haze. She could hardly see the sword in front of her. But she could hear everything. The shrieking scream of her blade, the deafening roar of the heretic´s bolters even the muted sound of rain smacking against her armor.

Suddenly, the smoke dissipated and Emma could see clearly what was in front of her. She was just on the edge of the heretic's trench with no chance to slow down. Her foot stepped over the edge, right into the trench and her body followed. Her head hit the wall and her back slammed into the ground with a loud crash. Her armor took the worst of it and she quickly scrambled to her feet.

She glanced to her side and her eyes locked onto the heavy weapons team on the edge of the trench. It was manned by two men, one gunner and one loader. Emma gritted her teeth and charged.

Neither of the men had noticed Emma. The sound of the bolter spitting shells drowned out any other noises.

Emma ran up and grabbed the loader by his leg, pulling him down into the trench and pushing her sword into his chest.

The gunman saw his partner disappear and leapt down to attack Emma. He hit her across the head with a shovel.

Emma turned and pulled her sword out of the loader. Behind her helmet, she was frowning and growling.

"Wait-" Was the only word that he had time to say before Emma pushed her sword through his stomach, spilling his entrails across the muddy trench.

 _Heretics._ Emma thought. _They are all heretics._

Emma looked around her and could finally get a decent idea of her surroundings. The trench had been dug in a sick-sack pattern and was just about two meters deep.

"Canoness?" She called out over the vox.

Silence was the only response she received.

"Sisters?" She turned to a different channel and again there was only silence.

Emma put a hand on her neck and felt a warm liquid running out from the joint between the armor and the helmet. She pulled her hand back and realized that the liquid was black and oily. It took Emma a short moment, but she realized that when she hit the ground, she pulled at her neck and snapped one of the cord between her armor and helmet.

"Emperor dammit." Emma cursed. To get an idea of where her sisters where, Emma climbed up to the gun turret.

She looked over the battlefield and tried to make out the shapes moving in the smoke. She had no chance to determine whether a silhouette in the smoke was one of her sisters or one of the heretics. No way of telling whether she should call them over or give them a burst from her boltpistol.

Instead she glanced to her sides, trying to see if she could see or hear one of her sisters making their assault.

To her right, she could hear the screams of heretics being slaughtered and the roars of battleforged sisters.

Emma leapt down from the turret and ran along the trench, almost jumping from one side to the other until she reached her sister. When Emma saw her, with her back facing her, Emma smiled under her helmet.

"Johana!" She shouted, trying to be heard over the sound of explosions and the roars of gun turrets.

Johana didn´t react. She cleaved the heretic she was facing in half and broke the second one's face with a punch of her armored fist. Broken teeth were flung against the trenches muddy wall.

"Johana!" Emma shouted again.

This time Johana turned. She threw a quick glance at her sister and gave a nod in recognition. Then she turned back and rushed down the trench.

Emma followed.

A mortar shell landed on the edge of the trench, next to Johana. The force of the explosion threw Johana against the wall and shattered the support beams by the trench, causing the entire wall to collapse. A torrent of mud and earth crashed on her like a breaching wave. It pinned her to the wall and lifted her up before burying her, leaving only her forearm above the surface.

Emma didn´t hesitate for a moment. She dropped her sword and climbed to the top of the mud, felling her feet sinking with every step. Just as she was coming close to the top of the hill, Emma could feel bullets clinking against her armor. She looked to her side and saw another turret, further up the hill. Emma pinned herself to the ground and kept climbing. The effort was in little wain as she could hear and feel the bullets slamming against her backpack, peaking just above the trenches edge. She turned to her side and released a burst from her boltpistol.

With the bullets zooming past her head and mud splattered across her helmet´s visor it was difficult for Emma to determine where the turret was or how far away it was. She also had little clue of whether her shoots hit their mark or simply hit the ground. It didn´t matter much. Emma only need the gunners to duck, hide themselves from the incoming bolter rounds while she moved forward.

She crawled up to Johana´s hand. Even when buried, Johana´s finger was scrambling and clasping at the air in panic. When Emma put her own hand next to it, Johana´s fingers snapped like a trap and took ahold of her arm in an iron grip. Emma tried to pull herself lose but to no effect, Johana simply refused to let go and Emma was forced to start digging with one hand alone. She handed her boltpistol to the other hand and gave the pistol turret another burst before she holstered the weapon and started pulling away the thick mud.

The dark soil mixed with rain had turned the dirt to a thick clay. As Emma pulled away the thick layers, she felt her own legs starting to be swallowed by the mud. For every third handful of mud Emma pulled away, she had pause to get her own legs up, shifting her position to not sink down, all while keeping an eye towards the gun turret. The upside to this was that Johana was forced to let go of Emma´s hand, or she would have twisted her own out its socket.

She could see some movement by the turret and she released a burst from her boltpistol. She fired three shots and the weapon started to click.

The sound of the empty weapon caused something to grip Emma in the back of her head. It shot a wave of ice through her veins and fire beneath her skin. She started scrambling like a mad animal, tossing away handful after handful of the mud as she shifted her eyes between the turret and Johana.

Her entire arm was free now, but her head was still hidden. The mud that Emma had dug looked something like a crater, with Johana´s arm sticking out of the center.

Emma dug her fingers in at center of it, right next to Johana´s arm and shoved away enough mud to reveal the tip of Johana´s helmet. Encouraged, Emma pushed her fingers into the mud. Down to the point where her hands where immersed into the mud and pulled her arms towards her.

Underneath, she found the upper half of Johana´s helmet. Emma glanced upwards and saw movement next to the turret again. She hunched forward and started digging around Johana´s head. As her fingers where pushing into the mud again, Emma could feel Johana´s arm grasping against her back.

For a moment, Emma smiled.

Then she felt a bullet slamming into her side again. Metal scraped against metal and Emma gritted her teeth. She looked to her side and saw a stream of bullets rushing towards her like little orange beams of light. One of them smacked over her head, causing her helmet to ring. In an instant, the world started to blur and Emma pushed herself down into the mud in order to get out of the turret fire.

She pushed her fingers into the mud again and started digging away the mud surrounding Johana´s head.

A fizz of air pushed through a thin layer of mud and Johana´s head started swing back and forth. She looked up and saw Emma.

Underneath their helmets, both sisters couldn´t help but smile.

Emma started digging away at Johana´s buried arm and Johana put her free arm to it. With their combined efforts, the sisters had managed to uncover Johana´s arm and most of her upper body.

Johana started flexing back and forth, moving her upper body and wiggle herself loose from the mud.

Emma took her sister by the arm and tried to pull her loose.

With Johana pushing upwards with her right arm and Emma pulling Johana up by her left, even as Emma felt her own legs sink down, Johana could feel the mud losing its grip.

Suddenly, giant hand came down and grabbed Emma by the leg and threw her down the hill like a ragdoll.

It happened to fast for Emma to grasp what was happening. She could only feel something wrapping around her leg and next thing she knew, Emma was flying through the air. The sky and the muddy ground vizzed past her eyes until the ground zoomed up to her.

Now a blur of mud and dirt flashed in front of her eyes before it settled. Emma closed her eyes and tried stop the world from shaking. She could hear a roar. A rage filled, savage scream. Emma put a hand on the ground, feeling her fingers sinking into the dirt and looked at source of the noise.

It was the height of a truck. At first Emma thought it was a heretical Astartes but once her vision cleared she could make out what she was up against.

An ogryn. Though it had the general shape and form of a human it was at least another meter taller than Emma and arms the size of tree trunks. In its thick, fat hands the orgyn held a shot gun the size of a heavy bolter. The barrel had blade larger than any sword Emma had ever seen attached to its underside. The ogryn roared and slammed its metallic breastplate, producing a thunderous, deafening sound.

Emma´s hand jumped instinctively to her side, grasping for her sword but she quickly remembered it was left in the trench.

"Dammit." Emma cursed and took her knife from behind her back. She flipped the knife in her hands, pointing the blade downwards and shouted to the ogryn.

"Come here!" She had to get the brute away from Johana. She was still stuck in the ground and had no way to defend herself.

The ogryn raised his arms into the air, flexing the muscular arms and charged. The brute didn´t jump over the trench, it just stepped over the gap and ran. Mud and dirt exploded from the ground with every step the brute took and Emma could almost feel the ground itself trembling at the assault.

But she stayed her ground. She shifted to present her side to the brute and put her free arm forward. As the ogryn got closer Emma felt her heart steadily climbing up her chest, to her throat and stabbing her side with every beat.

The ogryn raised his weapon above his head and was preparing to slam it down on Emma.

With just a little sidestep, Emma put herself out of the path of the ogryn´s weapon.

The weapon crashed into the ground and released a shower of mud and brown water into the air.

Emma was taking a step towards the ogryn, trying to push her blade into the trunk like arm when the ogryn pulled its weapon free and swung it to the side.

The movement was quicker then Emma had anticipated and she only barely managed to put stop herself from being in the path of the weapon. The point of the blade scraped against her armor, yellow sparks flew of and spread over her black armor.

Once the blade was past Emma, the ogryn flung the weapon over its shoulder into an over swing.

Emma was tempted to attack. The arch of the ogryn´s recovery was wide. The ogryn had left itself with the underside of its arm exposed to attack.

Instead, Emma made a dash backwards. She slid across the mud and waited for the ogryn´s next attack.

The ogryn took a step forward and prepared to slam its weapon down on her again.

Emma took a hard swallow and dashed forward, right in the path of the blade. She kept her eyes on the edge and raised her knife. When the sword was passing down on her, Emma caught the edge of the ogryn´s weapon. She deflected the force of the strike and let the blade fall to her side as she ran forward.

As she was passing by the ogryn´s side, Emma saw exactly what she was looking for. Between the plates covering the ogryn´s upper body there was a narrow gap, betrayed by the pink flesh pressed against it.

Emma turned on the back of her heel and rammed the blade of her knife into the gap. The flesh gave little resistance and the ogryn roared out in pain. Emma gave the knife a twist and pulled it out before rolling out of the path of the ogryn´s next swipe.

The ogryn screamed and stared at Emma with its large, beady eyes. The brute´s face had turned red and slaver flung from his tusk like teeth.

It was far from dead and Emma knew it. She hadn´t expected it to die so easily, but she was hoping for it. She bit down and ignored the pain in her side.

The ogryn stepped forward and made another swing, this time it was the faster and Emma could only dash out of the way.

Enraged, the ogryn made a series of swings and Emma kept avoiding them. The speed and frequency of the attacks forced Emma to stay on the defensive. She leapt and dashed out the blade´s path.

Emma felt pain bite into her side and the inside of her helmet started getting slick and moist with sweat. Felling the weariness starting to crawl through her body, Emma made a longer dash backwards and rolled to the ogryn´s left. As her hands touched the ground, Emma let her fingers sink and grabbed a handful of mud between her fingers.

As the ogryn turned to face her, Emma threw mud towards the ogryn´s head. She hit it right between the eyes.

Blinded, the ogryn let its weapon down and put one of its hands over its eyes, trying to dig the mud out of its eyes.

Emma took a moment to hesitate but quickly charged forward.

With the ogryn having its left hand over its eyes it had unknowingly exposed the underside of its own arm.

Emma charged for the left side of the ogryn. She grabbed one of the straps holding the ogryn´s plates and pushed the knife into the exposed flesh in the arm´s pit. The blade buried itself up to the guard.

Emma slashed and felt the blade cutting through muscles, skin and tendons like they were water. A string of rubies splashed across muddy ground and disappeared in the thick rain.

The ogryn´s arms came slamming to its side. The thick log of muscles and bone swung down on Emma and crashed into the side of the ogryn. With the brute´s arm just hanging onto its shoulder, Emma pushed herself away from the ogryn and dashed to get some distance.

The ogryn flayed and screamed. Its right arm flung the shotgun around like a club. The left arm merely hung from its shoulder, blood rolled down its side and splattered across the ground. The screams the ogryn made where pain and anger combined.

Emma didn´t dare to move close to it. One strike from one of those arms and Emma would be flung across the field again. And she felt her side biting with pain every time she took a breath.

 _One or two ribs might be broken._ Emma thought. _Emperor, don´t let it be anything more than that._

The ogryn stopped its flailing. The rain had washed the mud out of its eyes and the brute stared at Emma with eyes boiling with rage. The right arm flexed and the left arm struggled climb up to the shotgun. The ogryn puts its left hand on top of the shotgun, the fingers wrapped around the barrel and trembled as the left arm flexed.

Emma adopted the same position she had the beginning of their fight and waited for the orgyn to attack her again.

She felt her leg flinching.

Emma looked down and found her leg downright trembling. She looked back up at the ogryn and gritted her teeth to the point she could feel her jaw aching. She charged forward.

 _I can´t wait for this beast to attack. I must bring the wrath of the Emperor over it. I must bring vengeance, I must bring fire._

The ogryn bellowed out, in either rage or pain, and answered Emma charge. The brute raised its weapon, blood rolled out of the wound as the ogryn exposed and pulled the wound open further. The ogryn roared.

"By his name!" Emma roared and watched as the ogryn swiped its weapon towards her. In a blur, Emma saw the blade and the barrel sweeping towards her.

She threw herself forward, aiming to stab her knife into the ogryn´s neck.

The blade scrapped against the breastplate.

Emma didn´t managed to jump high enough and the ogryn flung her aside like a fly with its broken arm.

She landed on her shoulder and heard the bones cracking as the plates of her armor cracked in a loud clash. Instinctively, Emma clutched her shoulder without realizing that she was letting go of her knife.

Flinching, Emma rose and glanced at the ogryn.

The brute panted. Blood mixed with the rain and ran in a stream of crimson down its side. The left arm had let go of the weapon and merely hung from the ogryn shoulder.

Despite that, Emma knew she the odds were against her. She frantically searched the ground with one arm on her side. She looked for the knife but the weapon had sunken into the thick mud.

The ogryn roared and Emma felt the watery mud tremble with every step the brute took.

Emma had no chance to avoid the incoming attack. She lifted her arm to block. The move was more instinct than reflex. Instead of putting her arms in front of her throat, Emma took the attack by presenting it with the back of her forearm.

It was an effort to deflect the blow. But the edge of the blade attached latched onto the joint at her wrist and pulled her arm with it, almost tearing her arm completely out of its socket.

Emma flipped over. She crashed into the ground with her back. The jolt of pain reached out to the tips of her fingers. The pain quickly faded but Emma felt an electrical tingle running across her muscles. She could flex her fingers but her arms and legs didn´t move as fast as she wanted them to.

Looking through her muddy visor, Emma saw the ogryn in the corner of her eye. The brute was raising his crude weapon to strike down on.

Emma closed her eyes and heard the sound of a flock of birds screaming in terror.

She opened her eyes and saw the point of a sparkling blade sticking out of from the ogryn´s knee.

The brute tilted to its side, the leg folded and trapped the sword between the thick muscles. Behind the ogryn, Emma could see an armored figure, one of her sisters. It was no question about it, it was Johana.

Emma rolled away from the ogryn and used the momentum to get up to one knee. With one foot on the ground, Emma forced herself to her feet. The world swirled, like she was able to tilt the world just by leaning on one side over the other.

The ogryn was hunched over, tiling his head forward like it was bowing.

Johana pulled the sword out from the ogryn´s knee. The moment the blade slipped out from the ogryn´s flesh, the brute timbered forward. The cut left arm squeezed between the ogryn´s torso and the ground. Blood mixed with the muddy rain and created a river colored in a mixture of dark brown and crimson.

But the ogryn was still alive. Water bubbled around its head and the right arm struggled to lift the weapon.

Johana ran up to the ogryn´s left side and pushed the sword into the ogryn´s neck.

The brute gave of a twitch and stopped moving.

Johana drew the sword back. The blade was drenched in thick ogryn blood.

The river of brown and red became over flowing with crimson.

Emma´s helmet was warm. Every gasping breath Emma took sent a stab of pain from her side. Her muscles aced and burned. She wanted to say, "Thank you." but she only managed to take another painful breath. The heat of the air inside her helmet was enough to dry out her throat. It took great heaves for her to breath.

"Are you alright?" Johana asked.

Emma reached behind her head and released the hatch holding her helmet. There was a blow of air inwards before Emma lifted the helmet off. The air outside her helmet was filled the stench of gunpowder and blood but it was at the very least cold compared the heat she felt inside her armor.

Emma took a few large, stabbing breaths.

"A few broken ribs and a dislocated shoulder." Emma answered while wiping sweat of her head with her hand. Emma glanced the top of the hill. A banner donned with a white hawk was flying on burning wings flew from the top.

 _They´ve taken the hill._ Emma thought. _Means I can relax for a little while._ She closed her eyes and tried to ignore the pulses of pain coming from inside her armor and the stenches from the battlefield She sat down on the muddy battlefield and spat. She noticed that the slaver was colored red.

Johana stared at her sister.

"Are you unhurt?" Emma asked.

Johana gave a subtle shook of her head. "Minor injuries. Just a few bruises at worst." She held the sword to Emma, presenting the hilt of the blade.

Emma raised a brow in reply.

"It´s our sword."

Emma puzzled for a moment. "What happened to yours?" She asked as she put her helmet aside before she took the blade back.

"It's still buried under the mud."

Emma closed her eyes. "Right." She drew a little sigh.

"Thanks for saving me." Johana said.

Emma opened her eyes and looked up at Johana. She smiled. "Thanks for saving me." She replied.

Johana sat down next to her sister. Her armor was covered in mud and the robes where drenched in it. Unlike Emma´s armor though, Johana´s wasn´t dented and scratched.

"You two!" The stern voice of the Canoness shouted.

Johana almost jumped to her feet at the sound of the Canoness. Emma felt herself jerking but a stab of pain stopping her halfway through turning. She turned staggering and wincing.

The two turned and looked up at the Canoness. She was standing on the slope of the hill, her armor and robes stained with blood and white scratches on her shoulder plates. Her sword was drenched in blood.

"What are you doing down the hill?" Despite the Canoness´ face being hidden behind a helmet, Emma could tell just by the tone of her voice that she was angry.

Emma forced herself to stand upright next to Johana. "We killed this ogryn." She answered.

The Canoness looked at the ogryn, then at Emma before her eyes locked to Johana. She rested her sword over her shoulder and paced towards the pair. "Last I saw you," The Canoness addressed Emma. "You were assaulting the hill at my side. Why did you stop to attack the ogryn?"

The tone of the Canoness´ voice made no effort to hide her emotions. She was angry, downright furious. Emma flexed her fist and tried think of an answer.

"She saved me, Canoness." Johana said.

 _Don´t._ Emma wanted to say as her fingers started digging into her palm.

"So, you valued the life of one of your sisters over the will of the Emperor?" The Canoness stared down at Emma, her head slightly tilted.

"Once I reached the trench my vox broke and I-"

Emma was stopped by the Canoness slapping the back of her hand against Emma´s chin. The skin broke and Emma almost collapsed into the mud. She forced herself to stand and face the Canoness.

"You halted his wrath." The Canoness said with contempt.

"I-" Emma tried to speak but the Canoness slapped her hand across the cheek again, this time tearing a chunk of skin and meat of.

"You only speak when I tell you to speak." The Canoness took Emma by the throat and lifted her of the ground with one hand.

Emma´s hand clawed and scrapped at the Canoness arm. She clasped for breath.

Johana´s arm was trembling at the scene in front of her. Her arm started to shake.

The Canoness looked at Johana. "Remember your oath." She turned back to Emma. "When I tell you to kill, you kill." The Canoness said as blood started gathering up in Emma´s head. "When I tell you to purge, you purge and when I tell you to charge, you charge."

Emma heard the words but still fought to clasp for small amounts of air.

"We are the daughters of the Emperor and we act upon his will." The Canoness dropped Emma and she hit the ground with a hard crash. She put her hands around her throat and gasped for air in dry breaths.

"It will not…" Emma tried to talk but her voice was hoarse.

"You will not what?" The Canoness fingers tightened around the hilt of her sword.

"I will not…" Emma took a hard swallow. "I will not perform such heretical acts again." She coughed. "I will always follow the will of the Emperor."

The Canoness glared down on her. She walked past them down the hill, back to their camp.

Johana kneeled down next to Emma. "Are you alright?"

Emma took a few breaths through her nose. She climbed to her feet, despite the pain in her neck and side. "I´m fine." Blood ran down from the wound on her cheek.

Johana reached out her arms to offer Emma help but she didn´t accept. "Do you want help back to the camp?"

"No." Emma said. She looked at her sister and felt conflicted. "Just leave me alone for now."

Johana opened her mouth to argue but quickly closed it. She did as her sister wanted and walked to the camp alone.

Emma struggled to walk down the hill. She staggered and found it difficult to walk upright. After just a few short paces she stopped by the ogryn´s corpse and stared at it. "Damn heretic." Emma cursed and noticed something shining right under the ogryn´s throat. She kneeled down next to it and tried to grab it. She pushed her into the muddy ground, beneath the ogryn´s thick throat and felt something hard with a string attached to it. She pulled it off and looked at it in her palm. It was an Empirical Eagle made from metal. The silvery sheen of it was muted by the mixture of mud and blood. Emma rubbed it with her thump and some of the shine returned.

Shacking, her fist closed around it. Emma closed her eyes. "They are all heretics." She told herself.


	5. Chapter 4

The black rose chapter 4

Every time Emma took a step she winced. Fearing that other sisters would be watching, Emma bit the inside of her cheek to stop her mouth from moving when it stabbed into her side.

She was just on the edge of the camp, behind one of the tents. All the other sisters had already returned and started their evening prayers. Some had even finished their meals for the day.

Emma sucked in a breath and took a step. Despite biting her teeth down with her cheek between, Emma heard herself grunting and felt herself flinching.

"Dammit." Emma cursed. A display of pain was a display of weakness and the Canoness was good at punishing any signs of weakness. She glanced into the camp and didn´t notice any of her sisters, only a servitor and one of the scribes. The servitor had no way of telling anyone anything and the scribe always afraid of looking at any of the sisters. He feared that he would be considered unworthy of by the Emperor and be punished by being set ablaze in eternal flames. At most he would just stare at their feet.

Staggering, Emma hurried herself forward. The pain got worse and she felt herself almost tripping over a few times. The servitor looked at her with a drooling mouth and a single murky eye. The mechanical joints and limbs buzzed as the braindead husk of what had once been human plodded towards her.

"Are you in need his services, sister?" The scribe asked. His face was hidden behind a hood.

Emma took a short breath. "Yes. I am in need of it to get my armor off." She pointed to the servitor. "I am also need a medic to tend to my wounds."

"I shall see that one is sent forward with haste." The scribe nodded and hurried away.

The servitor stayed behind. Still and unmoving, waiting for additional orders.

"Come with me." Emma said and walked to her tent with the servitor at her side.

The inside of the tent only had three things, a stand for the armor and sword, a lamp flickering with an orange flame of burning promethium and a plain cotton bed.

Once she entered her own tent, Emma sat down on a stool with her back facing the servitor. "Remove my armor." She said and the servitor´s limps started humming and buzzing as they started moving across the armor´s backpack, undoing and releasing straps and hinges. The moment the backpack was unplugged from her armor, the armor gained a sudden weight and her muscles started straining. Normally this would just be bothersome but now the injuries from the battle her side felt like hundreds of icy knifes where sliding between the bones.

Her face twisted and the urge to scream pulled her lips, fighting to escape.

The servitor, unbothered by Emma´s movements, started removing the straps that held her shoulder pauldron and before pealing them of and moving on to the plates covering her back and chest. With every piece of the servitor removed Emma felt one of the blades dissolving and the pain eased with their disappearance.

After a few minutes, Emma presented her back to the servitor in only the simple white robe she wore underneath the armor. Most of the fabric had gotten a dark tone and stuck to her skin. She put a hand to her left side and felt moisture. Emma pulled her hand back and quickly realized it was only sweat, the skin had not broken.

She put her right hand on her knee and rose. There was some straining in the muscles around her hip but Emma managed to force herself to stand and pushed the stool away with her foot.

The servitor´s mechanical limps started buzzing with life as they carefully pealed the armor covering her legs away until Emma only had her boots left.

She turned to sit in the stool again and looked the servitor in the eye. It was a dead, unused eye. Almost rotting away.

Emma presented her feet to the servitor and it started unscrewing the joints that had tightened the metal plates around her calf and ankle. There was a small release of pressure as the plates started being pulled back.

With a strangely gentle hand, considering the servitor´s crude build and appendages, the servitor took Emma´s boots of and placed them alongside the rest of the stand along with the rest of the armor´s pieces.

It was only now that Emma could finally get a good look at her armor and get an idea of the state of it. The armor was scratched and dented on its left side. The metal had been battered inwards as if the butt of a spear had hammered into it. The backpack was in a similar state of disrepair with one side being almost completely smashed and the other completely intact.

Looking at it made Emma clench her fist. She wanted to lift her left arm but the arm still refused to move and she sighed silently to herself.

"Leave." She told the servitor and it obeyed her request without question or hesitation.

Once the servitor was gone Emma forced herself to her feet and let herself fall crash down on the bed. She laid down in the bed and stared up at the roof of the tent before staring back at the armor. The flickering orange light of the torch reflected in the silvery white scratches. She put a hand on her cheek and felt a sting from the wound the canoness had given her. She was trying to feel where the skin had broken when a shape entered her tent.

In the dim light, it was difficult for Emma to see who it was at first, she was certain that it was one of her sisters. None other would dare to enter the private tent of a Adepta Sororita.

"You required medical assistance?" A woman´s voice asked.

Emma eyes adjusted and she could make out the bone white robe the sister was dressed in. A hood hid most of her face behind soft shadows and every finger on her right had some kind of medical instrument attached to it. Be it a syringe or a scalp every one of them where connected to a bundle of wires running along her arm up to her shoulder.

Emma pushed herself up and sat on the edge of the bed. "Yes." She replied.

"Very well." The Medic said and turned on a harsh, bright light on her forehead.

The sudden brightness made Emma flinch and close her eyes. She could hear the Medic walking towards her and sitting down on the bed next to her.

"Give me your arm." The Medic said.

Still having her eyes closed from the light, Emma presented her left arm by leaning her entire upper body and felt a hand covered by a rubber glove wrapping around her wrist followed by a slight sting as the tip of a syringe pushed through her skin.

This wasn´t the first time Emma had been given anesthesia but headache and drowsiness that always followed made it feel like the bones inside her skull had been replaced with lead.

Emma could feel the Medics hand on her cheek. She could feel the moistened piece of cotton that the Medic had drenched with sterilizing alcohol in the open wound. She could feel the scalp cutting through her skin but she could not feel a single ounce of pain from any of it. Only the inside of her head throbbing with every heartbeat.

"My shoulder." Emma said.

The Medic did not seem to recognize what she said. She was buzzy sealing up the wound with some oiled strings.

"My shoulder is dislocated." Emma pointed a half-raised finger to her arm.

"I´ll get to it." The Medic replied as she was tying up the string on Emma´s cheek.

Emma could feel the pull of the string across the entire left side of her face. Though it was hard to move her body at all, the string pulled anytime she tried to form any expression.

Suddenly, Emma felt her arm being jerked upwards and she heard the bones popping back into place. She tried moving her hand and felt the fingers moving and curling inwards. Despite what the Medic had given her, Emma felt an electric tingle running from the tip of her fingers, up along her arm to her spine.

"Was there anything else you needed help with?"

Emma took a deep breath, partially swallowing some air. "Rib." She held a hand over her left side.

The Medic reached over Emma´s shoulder, to the knot that held her robes in place and untied it. The cloth slipped of her and landed on the bed with a silent thud.

"Move your arm aside."

Emma did as she was told and felt a pair of rubber fingers moving up and down her side. She was anticipating another stab of pain but instead she only felt an od tingle. Then one of the fingers pressed down and a wash of cold ran across her side.

"They aren't broken but you have suffered an internal bleeding." The rubber fingers disappeared. "Lay on your side with your arm on your head."

Emma´s tilted to her side and almost felt herself timbering. "Help." She said and could feel a hand on the side of her neck. Emma leaned again and was gently laid down as she lifted her left arm and rested it on her head.

There was buzzing, a humming of some kind before Emma felt a thick needle pushing through the skin just beneath her ribcage. Then there was a chill slowly spreading from where the needle had penetrated. It pushed underneath her bones and created a pressure between her lung and ribcage. A moment later it solidified and the needle was pulled out.

"You will be fit for battle in the morrow."

Emma pushed herself up and the Medic pulled the rob back to her shoulder. "How long until this wears of?"

The Medic tied the strings behind her shoulders. "It´s starting to wear of now, it will take few hours before you can feel pain again."

"Thank the Emperor." Emma muttered.

The Medic scoffed somewhat and left.

Alone again, and feeling the weight of her head easing of and the pulsing throb growing more and more muted, Emma tried flexing and moving her hand. The fingers moved and twisted as she wanted them to but her arm still felt weak. She wasn´t sure whether it was because of the Medic had given her or just plain weariness.

 _Doesn´t matter much either way._ She thought.

The entrance to her tent parted and another figure entered the room. It was one of the sisters. She was dressed in the same robes as Emma. A white hood wrapped around her hair but her face was plain to see. Her eyes where bright orange and she had some freckles on her cheeks, though they were somewhat hidden by the generally dark tone of her skin. Beneath her left eye she had a black tattoo in the shape of hawk´s wing and talon clutching a sword.

"Anna." Emma greeted the standard bearer with a nod.

"Emma." She gave Emma the same reply and looked over at Emma´s armor. "It would seem that you lost your helmet." Anna held forward a helmet made of black metal with a compressed vox box on the side of the temple. "Though it would seem like it´s in a far better state then the rest of your armor."

"Only comparably." Emma looked at the armor.

"The tech-priest are going to have much work ahead of them if this armor is to be restored." Anna walked up and placed the helmet in its place above the breastplate. "Still, they´ll probably be impressed knowing it helped you slay the heretical ogryn."

Emma raised a brow and felt a tingle in her head. "I didn´t slay it." She said, rubbing her temple and feeling the string on her cheek pulling.

Anna turned to Emma. "Then who did?"

"Johana."

"Really?"

"Yes. The brute was just about to cleave me in half with its crude blade when Johana pushed a sword through its knee before finishing it." Emma snarked. "While I was lying on the ground."

"Hm. Interesting."

"Why is that interesting?"

"Because Johana told me and a few other sisters that you dug her out of a wave of mud threatened to bury her and as she was about to get out of the mud, the ogryn appeared and you managed to slay it using only a knife."

Emma was stunned at first. She closed her eyes and took a moment to breath with her head still drifting. "Does it matter who did it?" Emma forced out of herself. "The ogryn was slain by the power of the Emperor."

"It would have been impressive had you managed to slay it." Anna shrugged.

"And how long would you last against a beast twice your size with only a knife?"

"It doesn´t matter how long it would have taken, the result would always be the same."

"You would have killed it?" Emma replied, looking up at the standard bearer.

"Of course, I would have." Anna tilted her head. "Are you doubting me?"

Emma opened her mouth, she wanted to give Anna some kind of sly answer about how she´s been running with the banner long enough to forget how it is to fight in close quarters. But she closed it, Anna ran on the battlefield like the others. She had gained the honor of wielding the banner by proving her faith in the Emperor to be purer and stronger than the other sisters. A venerated warrior who´s skill in combat might only be matched by the Canoness. Emma had no right to question her abilities.

"No, I am not doubting you." Emma said, staring down at the dirt covered floor.

"Good." Anna walked to leave the tent but stopped just at the entrance. She looked over her shoulder. "Doubt invites sin."

"Sin leads to temptation." Emma replied.

"Temptation is that path to heresy." Anna said before stepping out of the tent, leaving Emma alone.

Emma rested her hand in her palm. Her fingers rubbed her forehead. She grunted and looked, staring at her armor. With a small jump, Emma leapt to her feet and felt the world swinging for a moment. She walked up to the armor, rubbed some of the fabric with her hand. A mixture of dried blood and mud scrapped away to reveal the beautiful, shiny fabric underneath. Looking at the marks on the rest of her armor, Emma knew that it would not be that simple to remove them.

She pushed a hand through her hair and felt the fingers being caught in the tangled, blond strings. Pulling her hand back out, Emma felt a few hairs sticking to her fingers and snapping. She looked at the twisted, golden strings for a moment before she reached into one of the pockets on the armor´s waist.

When she pulled her hand back she held something that made her heart want to leap but the chemicals in her system restrained it. In her hand was the Aquila from the ogryn. An artifact of the heretics.

Emma bit her lip and looked at the lamp. The flames flickered and leaped atop the grey ash left by the burning wood.

With her arm trembling, Emma tossed the Aquila into the flames, between the burning logs. The orange flames licked around the metal. The bright light of the flames was reflected in the silvery metal. It flashed at her as the grey ashes from the burning logs started to slowly burry it.

"Fire purges."


	6. Chapter 5

The black rose chapter 5

The razor grated against his skin, removing the white, foamy liquid Derik had covered his chin and cheeks. With every stroke, he washed the razor´s blade before putting it to his skin again.

After a few minutes only a few white dashes remained across his face and Derik washed them of with splash of warm water. He stroked his face, tracing across the cheeks and his upper lip, feeling the smooth surface left by the razor. When he checked the underside of his chin, he felt and heard a little stubble on the skin.

He sighed before applying another layer and giving it another round with the razor. Without his stubble Derik looked young, soft, outright friendly if he decided to smile. While he preferred looking more like his age, there was no arguing for the customs of nobles and governors. To them a beard would either have to be finely cut and trimmed or removed entirely.

Derik stared at his reflection. He had bright brown eyes and a short trim of brown hair. Above the temples is was left to grow a little longer than the rest of it. On his right temple, he had a pair of metallic lids attached to his skin. The tone of his skin was a mixture between copper and silver, bright yet dark.

He opened the faucet and washed his hands under the running water. Afterwards he gave himself a splash of the water over his face. With the water still running, Derik took a dry cloth and dried face and arms. He took a light splash of water on his fingers and pulled his hair back.

He was about to put his shirt on when he realized he had forgotten something. He took a blue vial and splashed a few drops of its content across his neck. The liquid had a strong scent and burned his freshly shaved skin.

Then he put the shirt on, carefully tying up each button before adjusting the collar with experienced fingers. After that he tied his black and white scarf around his neck, putting the knot to rest just below his neck and just above his ribcage.

Derik looked over at his coat, the largest piece of his outfit.

It was a long trench coat that reached down to his knees and had four buttons over his chest and stomach. The neck was marked by masterfully crafted pattern made out of a golden thread that formed the shape of a curved branch with sharp pointed leaves. The coat itself was made out of a dark leather.

Derik pulled the coat over his arms and let it sink down to settle on his shoulders. He left the buttons untied and took his sword. The weapon was sheathed and strapped to a leather belt. Derik put the weapon on under his cloak and tightened the belt buckle across his waist. The sword hung from his side, under his left arm and tilted forward just enough so the pommel of the sword peaked out from the coat.

Derik took one final look into the mirror, adjusting a hair or two on his head before putting his gloves on. He flexed his hands to make sure that they felt good on his hands before leaving his chamber.

Walking down the hallway, Derik was saw servitors performing their duties and was greeted by workers and engineers working along the hulls of the ships deck. There was one or two tech-priests working the machines but Derik could not identify any of them to be Tayber. It wasn´t a particularly large ship but Derik had spent most the journey inside his private chamber, studying tomes and texts that were either deemed heretical or dangerous to the mind of one not fit to carry the Emperor´s will.

"We have landed on Prostoru." One of the tech-priest said.

"I know, tech-priest." Derik replied. "I have sent orders to have them receive me."

"Will you be requiring and escort?"

"No. They have only been given orders to receive me, I will not be taken any armed forces or escorts with me."

"Very well." The tech-priest made a small bow and led Derik to the dock.

It took them a few minutes to get there. They were standing before the docking, the metal of the ship draped in thick shadows.

There was a suction of air as the pistons sprung to life and the docking lowered. A stream of white light peaked between the metals. Derik found himself flinching somewhat at first but his eyes quickly adjusted. He took a short breath and walked across the dock.

Once outside the ship and walking along the dock, Derik realized that the light wasn´t nearly as bright as he had initially thought, rather it was dull and almost grey in tone.

 _Even on the tallest peaks of a hive city, the light of the sun can still be muted._

Derik looked up at the sky and wrinkled his nose at the smell of the air. He was far from unaccustomed to the stenches that wreaked from the bowels of hive cities but that didn´t mean he liked them. He merely put up with them.

At the far of the dock, Derik could see two figures moving towards him. Both of them dressed in white robes with hoods covering their heads.

Derik proceeded to walk towards them and realized that their faces weren´t covered by hoods, rather their faces where covered by veils made of the same white cloth as their robes and the sleeves of their robes where pulled over each other, their hands hidden underneath the cloths.

As they meet about halfway across the bridge, the two figures kneeled before Derik. Neither of them said a word.

Derik looked at the pair, perplexed and scratching the side of his neck.

"Greetings." He said, hoping to break the silence.

Neither of the figures said anything, they merely stayed still with one knee on the ground.

Derik folded his arms and drummed his fingers, hoping for some kind solution to this problem. "I am Derik Horst, inquisitor of ordo hereticus, a member of the Emperor´s holy inquisition. I give you permission to answer."

"You are welcome, holy inquisitor." One of the figures replied. From the tone of the figures voice, it was plain to tell that she was a woman.

"Thank you." Derik replied with a nod. "I wish to speak to your governor and your cardinal."

"I beg your forgiveness, holy inquisitor, but he may not be received at this hour. He his deep in prayer, trying to receive the will of the Emperor."

"He?" Derik blurted.

"Yes, he." The woman answered with a hardened tone.

Derik bit the inside of his lips. "I understand. When in praying to the Emperor one should not be disturbed. May I go into your temple while I wait? The light of the Emperor is always a blessing for the soul." Derik looked up at the monolithic building behind the sisters. It was large, the peak of the city, built to reach up to the sky and cut through the clouds like the point of spear.

"A member of the Emperor´s holy inquisition is always allowed access to our sacred chalice." The woman answered while rising.

It was only now that Derik could get a good look at the woman. While most of her face was hidden behind a veil her eyes peaked out between the two openings between the fabrics. Her eyes were golden brown and marked by a few shallow wrinkles. The other had dark, blue eyes that looked almost purple.

"Thank you."

The two sisters lead Derik up to the dock´s gate. From under her sleeve, the brown eyed sister took out a ring filled with keys. She unlocked the door and showed her purple eyed sister in first.

Derik waited for the pair to enter before following in to the cathedral. The inside was nothing if not a display of masterful craftsmanship. The walls where carved out of shining marble and the roof was covered with a detailed painting depicting the Adeptus Astartes in a massive battle against the traitors of the Imperium. Their bolters spitting white hot metal and their cobalt blue armors stained with blood and sooth. At the center of the painting was the Emperor himself, golden, radiating has his flaming sword cleaving heretics in half with single swing.

The hall itself was empty apart from a collection benches made of dark, shining wood and pulpit attached to one of the pillars. It was made of the same wood as the benches but every corner of it was marked by carvings in the wood, depicting the Imperial Aquila and a hawk with wings wrapped in flames.

"A lovely piece of art." Derik remarked on the roof painting.

"It truly is." The purple eyed sister said.

The older sister left them and the purple eyed one stayed behind.

She turned to Derik. "Have you ever seen the Emperor´s chosen angels?"

"I have." Derik looked at the sister. "They are truly magnificent warriors, the strength, the skill and the ability they use to smite the enemies of man is something to behold."

"What was their chapter called?"

Derik chuckled out of nostalgia. "I have lead and fought among numerus legions and chapters. I have seen the Angels of Baal tear their enemies apart with otherworldly rage, I have felt the heat coming of the flames from the drakes of Nocturne, I have heard the wolves of Fenris howl before they hunt."

Despite her face being hidden behind the veil, Derik could easily see her smiling through the fabric. "I pray that one day they will come to our world. I wish to see them."

 _Wishes are dangerous things, it's better to hope they never come true._ Derik thought. _Astartes, regardless of their legions never bring peace, they always bring war._

"Perhaps that wish may come true someday." Derik sat down in one of the wooden benches.

"Do you think so?" The sister sat down a bench next to Derik.

"I do. Mayhap that I do more than think, there may even be a way for you to improve your chances." Derik put on a little smirk.

"How?" The sister asked eagerly.

Derik chuckled, quietly, just enough for the sister to notice. He leaned forward, putting a hand on his lap. "The governor. Take me to him."

The sister pulled back. One of her hands jumped to her face out of reflex to hide her reaction but even with the veil it was plain for Derik to read. "But…" She stuttered. "Forgive me, holy inquisitor but he is praying to the Emperor. I do not wish to disturb him at this private moment."

Derik smacked his lips. "What do you think would help him reach the light of the Emperor more? Praying to him? Thousands, millions if not even more do that every day. Even the Emperor will find difficulty in telling one voice from a million. Acting on behalf of one of the Emperor´s holy chosen on the other hand, only a few chosen across this vast galaxy will get to do that."

The sister was silent for a moment. She leaned back a stared into the ground. Beneath her sleeves, Derik could notice her fingers rubbing together.

"Are you certain of this?" She asked.

"How long does your governor pray?"

"A few hours a day."

"And for how _long_ as he done this?"

"Years, decades maybe. He´s been doing in for as long as I have been in his service."

 _And you look relatively young._ Derik thought.

"When a commander notices that a tactic he´s using doesn't work, he has two options. Continue to send his soldiers forward, hoping that the tables will eventually turn in his favor while his soldiers get butchered or change his tactics. A good commander choses the later. He doesn´t wait for things to improve. He tries something different. It may be tried and true or new and radical but it's different all the same."

The sister looked down into the ground. Her eyes where wide open and under her veil one hand was pushed under her chin.

She looked up at Derik, then back at the floor. "I will take you to him."

Derik rose and adjusted his glove. "Thank you."

The sister rose after him and walked along the cathedral's hall. Derik followed her. The sister was in no hurry and kept a rather slow pace. As they walked along the walls, Derik looked up at the walls and the ceiling. While most of it was beautifully crafted and carefully painted but there was little in the way of tech or metal built into it. Something that Derik couldn´t help but take not of. There were few servants walking around the cathedral. Derik had expected the cities best guards to around this part of the city. But so far, he had only seen the sisters and glimpsed one or two priests, their faces hidden just like the sisters.

"We´re here." The sister stopped outside a metallic, silvery door. A slight smell of incense hung in the air and an orange light peaked from under the door frame.

The sister was about to put her hand on the door when she stopped. Her hand hovering just above the door´s handle.

"There is no point in the governor being angry with you." Derik said. "You may leave and I will take care of the rest myself."

The sister turned to him. She put her palms together in front of the inquisitor and nodded forward. "Thank you, holy inquisitor." She said before rushing of.

 _The ones like her._ Derik thought as she disappeared out of his sight. _Should it come here,_ _she´ll either be the first or the last to die. Wonder which option is better._

Derik put his hand on the door and pushed the door towards him. He was immediately met with a wave of the grey smoke. The scent was strong enough to make breathing a thick exercise. Derik had to take small, shallow breaths to avoid the smoke creeping into his lungs.

"Who dares to disturb my prayer?" A shallow, rasping voice asked.

"Me." Derik answered plainly.

Behind the smoke, in the light of the burning incense and the wax candles Derik could see the silhouette of a man. A man dressed in robes.

"And who are you?" The man asked as he rose. The robes hanging of his arms and shoulders made him look like a ghastly figure merely moving through the smoke.

"I am Derik Horst of the ordo hereticus of the Emperor´s holy inquisition." Derik answered. "And who are you hiding behind this smoke?"

"I am the governor and ruler of Prostoru. Alfred Derus." He turned to face Derik but it was still a challenge for Derik to make out anything of him apart from his form through the thick smoke.

"Governor Derus." Derik nodded and tried to stop himself from coughing. "I apologize for disrupting you in a moment of prayer but I bring a matter that cannot wait."

"Of what concern is this matter?"

"Of service and heresy." Derik walked into the smoke. At first the scent was thick enough to make it feel like he had just inhaled a pile of ash but after a few moments it let up as the smoke started drifting out of the room and fresh air took its place.

Alfred stepped of his elevated altar. The altar had a candlestick with nine candles. All of them a different color. At center of it, beneath the candles, sat a human skull. The smoke drifted around Alfred as he walked. He stared at the Inquisitor with a grey, dull eyes. His face was thin and wrinkly, long strings of twisted, stringy, grey hairs hung from the side of his temple. The rest of his head was bald and barren. Only a few brown liver spots broke up the shiny, pale skin.

"Does that give you the right to disturb me in my time of prayer?" Alfred's brows shifted downwards. There was a strange way the Governor´s eyes looked at Derik. He seemed to look straight through Derik.

"Forgive me, Governor, but are you blind?"

"If I where blind, then what use would have would I have for candles?" Alfred snarled. "You haven´t answered my question. What matter gives you the right to interrupt my prayer?"

Derik pushed some of the smoke away, giving himself some fresh air. "It is a matter I feel is best discussed where there are no ears that may be listening."

"Do your fear that anyone here would be a traitor, a heretic?" Alfred´s dry voice rose as high as the brittle old body could raise it.

"Heretics and traitors are cunning and devious by their nature. It's what keeps them alive in among the Emperor´s loyal subjects."

Alfred walked up to Derik. His gloomy eyes seemed to pierce through Derik´s skull, trying to lock him in place.

 _He´s not blind._ Derik thought, crossing his arms across his chest. _But his eyes are about to give in._

"So where would we have our discussion take place, inquisitor?"

Derik looked around the room. Despite the dull light coming of the candles Derik could plainly see that is was a closed room. No window, no vents and only the door as a way in and out of the room.

"This room should do." Derik turned carefully on the heel of his boot and closed the door slowly. The hinges creaked and the lock clicked.

"Soo what is it?"

"I am here regarding the war on this planet, a war that will come and how it will affect you and your subjects." Derik said.

Alfred drew a slow breath. The smoke formed a pair of grey pillars as it climbed upwards to his nostrils. "What is it you want to know?"

"Firstly, I know that this planet is torn apart by civil war and the forces deployed are the Sisters of the Hawk along with the imperial guard. The thing I don´t have a clear grasp on yet is, what did the other side do to spark this civil far?"

Alfred´s upper lip twitched. "You insult the Sisters."

"I beg your pardon?"

"The Sisters of the Hawk are the holy warriors of the Emperor. They are unbreakably loyal, pure of faith and strike without hesitation or question. The imperial guard are not worthy to fight alongside them."

"I see." Derik took a step back and rested a hand on the pommel of his sword. "I would not have dared to insult the Sisters by comparing them to the imperial guards had I known." Derik had knew very well the Sisters of the Hawk. Just being of the Adeptus Sororita meant that the Sisters where the greatest warriors this world had to offer. But he did not know that the Sisters of the Hawk fought separately from the other imperial forces in this war.

 _A dangerous tactic. Hard to tell what benefits, if any, it grants._

"As for your question," Alfred said. "Their crime is treachery and heresy." 

"What was the nature of this treachery and heresy?"

"Murder at a holy union under the blessing of the Emperor."

Out of habit and reflex, Derik reached for his chin. He expected to scratch his stub before her remembered he was freshly shaven. "The Sisters of the Hawk are a legendary fighting force." Derik remarked. "Even among the orders of the sisters of battle the Hawks are famous for fighting heretics with unprecedented efficiency, preferring close quarters fighting and purified promethium over other weapons. Means that they can see the light fading from the eyes of heretics as the flames consume them and feel their blood on their armor as the blades cleaves them."

"They employ bolters as well." Alfred remarked.

"An error on my behalf." Derik lifted his hands and performed a slight bow. "But does not negate their fame."

"What is it you want, inquisitor?" Alfred stared at him with the gloomy puddles that made up his eyes. "You come in here, interrupt my hour of prayer, insult me and my order with ridiculing questions and remarks, and now you´ve started singing the praises of the Sisters of the Hawk. You seem ignorant of our ways and our war yet you seem eager to get involved in it."

Derik crossed his arms over his chest and clutched the sleeve of his coat. _Dammit._

"Forgive me, governor." Derik took a deep bow. "I should not have acted in such secrecy. I am here to bring an end to this war and collect forces for a something I fear might is coming."

"And do you think is coming?"

"Something that has not happened for almost 900 terran years." Derik let his hand slip onto the pommel of his sword. "A black crusade."

Those words made Alfred chuckle. "A black crusade?" He gave a snort.

"What is so funny about that? Do you not know what it means, what destruction and horror it can bring?"

Alfred eyes narrowed. "I know exactly what means. The despoiler has launched a black crusades twelve times and twelve times he has failed. And every time Prostoru has been left untouched."

"My lord I-"

"The Cadian gate will be the target for Abaddons crusade and by the time the heretics on this world are exterminated the black crusade will be over."

"All I am merely here to put a swift end to this war and give our order a chance to fight in the Emperor´s glory. To fight the forces of chaos on the front lines along the Emperor´s chosen."

Alfred glared at him. "Leave me be." Alfred said after a few awkward movements of silence. "I need to return to my prayers."

"As you wish my lord." Derik backed off and showed himself out of the door. Once he was outside, the door closed, Derik drew a sigh of relief with a hand over his chest.

 _Good._ Derik thought. _He´s considering it. If the Emperor wills it, this will not result in unnecessary bloodshed._


	7. Chapter 6

The black rose chapter 6

"Holy God-Emperor of mankind." Johana said, her hands clasped together under her lips, her eyes closed and the smoke burning incense drifting around her. The grey fog crawled across the air, slowly growing into a blurred, frail branch.

"Hear my prayer." She asked, the beads of her necklace between her thumb and index finger. "Give me strength. Grant me the resolve I need to enact your will. If you grant me this, I will bring wrath on the traitors to your Imperium and purge them with the holy flames of your sons. I will destroy the heretics that corrupt our faith, I will take my sisters on a crusade of faith and fire."

Johana leaned forward and kissed one of the beads. "I beg of you, grant me this wish." She kissed the bead again and inhaled a thick stream of the smoke.

She looked at the Aquila before her. A thin wax candle was burning beneath the left wing of the golden double headed eagle. She picked up another wax candle, as thin as the other one. She held the tip of the candle over the already burning candle. The wax melted and dripped away before the string underneath could be licked by the flames. Once the candle was burning, Johana placed it beneath the right wing, pressing it down on a sharp point.

Johana closed her eyes again and started rolling the beads in between her fingers.

"I thank you ever day for Emma." She paused, thinking of the next word to say. "Do not condemn her for straying from your path. You are our father and guardian but you also require protection." She paused and for a moment, Johana opened her eyes but quickly closed them.

"Is it possible, holy Emperor, that Emma was your will enacted through her? Did you send her to save me?" Her heart started fluttering, pounding even as she remembered the battle. She remembered the sound bullets ricocheting of metall. The speech of the Canoness. The feeling of her glowing blade cutting through heretic's flesh and armor.

Then Johana flinched.

She didn´t hear or see what happened. She only saw the mud coming towards her, the thick mixture of water and dirt picking her up and pinning her to the wall. Then everything went black. She couldn´t see anything. It was all silent apart from her panicked breaths. She tried escaping, but the thick mud held her firmly in place. Only her hand above the mud could be move.

The memory was enough to make her wince. The necklace of beads slipped from her fingers and Johana put a hand over her eyes.

Then she remembered Emma. She remembered Emma digging away the mud with furious zeal. Despite the constant threat of gunfire, Emma clawed at the mud with an almost animalistic frenzy. After that, Johana remembered Emma´s smile as she thanked Emma for her rescue, after they had slayed the ogryn. That silky, soft smile.

Johana put her hands together. She didn´t open her eyes. "One day, you will rise again, holy Emperor. One day, we will feel your power course throughout the imperium and feel your light warming our souls with your light and love. The traitors, the heretics, and the corrupt will plead and beg for mercy and forgiveness. For which there shall be none! your sons will return to your side, and with your light, they will be cleansed of the lies and corruption of the ruinous powers. On that day, that one Glorious day, I will stand with you."

It was a prayer she´d uttered many in the past. A passage she had been told at an early age, before joining the ranks of the Sororita.

Johana opened her eyes. The candles were slowly shrinking and melting to white, running wax. Running down the length of the candles and gathering around the base of candle sticks. The older candle already had wax gathering up into a thick white puddle. The fresh droops rolled of the edge and dripped to the floor.

She leaned forward and blew out the fading flame at the top. She looked at the second one candle. It was hardly even halfway burned and the flame was still pulsing with life.

Johana stared into the flame. She hoped to see something in the flames, hiding behind the veil of thick white light. But she only saw a little drop shaped flames slowly eating away at the candle wax.

She rubbed her arm and sighed. _Why is he always so silent?_

The question eat at her mind but she dismissed them. She leaned forward, put her hand around the candle and gave a little blow.

The light in her tent faded and before Johana could blink, darkness had consumed everything. At first Johana was wrapped around this shadow. But after a few moments things started to get back shape. Though it was blurred and flickered like flames when she moved her head she could make out the golden Aquila in front of her and the remains of the burned candles underneath its wings.

She turned and looked at her bed behind her. A blanket and a cotton pillow placed at the end. Johana sat on the edge of it and looked at the Aquila one final time before laying down and pulling the blanket over herself. At first, she felt a shill rushing from her feet as the naked skin brushed against the cold madras. She pulled her feet inwards, putting her knees over her chest. Her eyelids where already heavy and she quickly drifted off to sleep.

Johana woke with a hard yank. Her skin was drenched in sweat and her breath gasped beyond her own control. She sat up in the bead and leaned forward.

 _What kind of nightmare did I have?_ Johana wondered. It was rare for her to forget her dreams the moment she woke up but now she wanted to know.

She put a hand on her arm and felt some dried sweat. She shifted and felt a warm, wet felling between her legs. She pressed her thighs together and felt them sticking together for a moment before peeling apart.

Johana thought it was her cycle. While she usually didn´t bleed this much at once it was not unexpected. It had been more then a few weeks sense her last cycle. She reached under the sheet, pulled back her robe and put a hand on her thigh. The fingers where meet with a warm fluid that grew warmer as they got further up her leg.

She pulled her hand back and did not find the fingers to be red. Instead they were clear, as if she had just dipped her fingers in water.

"W… What?"

Johana rubbed the substance between her fingers and suddenly an icy stream ran through her veins. Her fingers seemed to move instinctively, they moved between the sheets and quickly moved up her thighs. She stopped them just between her legs. The cold feeling gathered up in her heart. It grew and started pressing against her throat. She took a hard swallow and felt her fingers crawling inside her. She gasped and pulled them out so hard she almost tore the sheets apart.

She jumped out of the bed and tried putting a new candle on the Aquila. Her hands where shaking so much the candle almost broke as she pressed it down on the pike.

"Oh, holy Emperor." Johana said when she lit the candle. "Why was my dream one of heresy? Why did it tempt me?" She felt herself on the verge of crying. "Please protect me from such thoughts."


	8. Chapter 7

The black rose chapter 7

The inside of her head pounded. Emma could feel sweat on her fingers as she ran her hand across her face. She rubbed her eyes and shifted to her other side, the bed sheets wrinkling and twisting as she forced her eyes shut.

After another few minutes of trying to fall asleep, Emma opened her eyes and stared up at the roof of her tent. She felt a slight shiver running across her body. The only light and source of warmth in the tent was the lamp, still burning although most of the logs had turned to grey ash. Emma reached under her bed and tossed another few logs on the fire. The orange embers inside the burned wood reached out and started eating at the fresh logs. At first, they were only little dancing cinders, but after a few minutes, they grew into little crackling flames. And after that they grew into bright orange tongues, liking the bark of the logs.

She laid back in the bed and pushed her fingers through her hair. They quickly tangled up and Emma stopped with her palm on her forehead. She held it completely still and stared to the roof without blinking.

"Emperor-dammit it all." Emma sat up in the bed and crawled to the edge of it. Her feet landed silently on the floor. She drummed her fingers on the edge of the bed and looked towards the tent´s entrance. She could see a muted, blue light peeking between the drapes and felt a whispering, cold breeze brushing against her feet.

Emma reached under her bed and took out a small box. She placed it next to herself and opened it. Inside was a mirror, a comb and a brush. The mirror was an old rusty thing with the edges of the glass showing signs of losing its reflection. The comb had a few teeth missing and the brush was thick with tangled pieces of golden hair.

She took the mirror and looked into it as she started pushing the comb through her tussled hair. The teeth snagged into a knot almost immediately. Emma tried pushing through but could only feel the comb starting to bend. She sighed and pulled the comb out. She placed it back into its box and picked up the brush instead.

The layer of hair stuck onto the brush was almost thick enough to hide the brush´s teeth. Emma started pulling the hairs from the brush and tossing them into the fire. The blond threads twisted and coiled into ashen curls.

After a few minutes of plucking hairs, the brush´s teeth started to show. The brush was far from clean but it was enough.

Emma picked the mirror back up and started brushing her hairs. The teeth tangled up in thick nots and she felt the hairs tugging at her scalp as she pulled the knots loose. The hairs cracked as they snapped. After a few good brushings, Emma could feel the thickest of the knots in her hair being undone.

She then started throwing the hairs on her brush into the fire. With her hair thinned, Emma picked up the comb again and started undoing the thinner clusters in her hairs.

After a few minutes Emma reviewed her efforts in the mirror.

 _It looks better._ Emma thought. Now she could actually push her fingers through her hair without having them snagging up in each other.

She put the mirror, the brush and the comb back into their box. She closed the box and was about to put it back under her bed when she heard a noise coming from outside her tent.

It was a scream. A scream of pain followed by a sudden silence. After that there was the roar and light of gunfire.

Emma rose from the bed and man came into her tent. He roared and charged forward with a bayonet attached to a lasgun.

She had no chance or room to avoid the attack. She took it head on by grabbing the muzzle of his weapon, turning it and digging her heels into the ground. They were locked together, each having a hand on the weapon, Emma´s above his. Slowly, Emma could feel the weapon moving down.

The attacker gave Emma a hard knee to her side, right underneath her ribcage.

Emma flinched but didn´t stagger. She let go of the lasgun´s muzzle and rammed her fist into his jaw. She felt the bone snapping under his skin. He was flung to the side and landed on the bed. His back facing Emma.

She took him by the head. One hand on his broken jaw and the other on the back of his head. With a hard yank, his head twisted around and the bones cracked out of position. He hit the ground still and lifeless.

Emma stared at the corpse. He had blue, still warm eyes and was dressed in a green plated armor. She spat at the body and turned.

Her hand moved out of instinct. It reached forward and drew the sword from its scabbard next to the armor. Her fingers flexed around the handle as she started walking out of the tent. Emma felt the world shifting before she ran out of the tent.

There were moments of silence that where suddenly broken by the roars of gunfire and in the distance, she could hear the metallic creaks of mechanical joints. The roars seemed to originate from multiple places. Once they came from her right, then they came from her left, then it was in front of her.

But the screams came only from one place. Behind her.

Emma pressed a button on the hilt of her sword and the blade flickered alive with icy blue flashes rushing up the edge. She took the sword on both hands ran around her tent.

Just as she was running past her tent she saw what caused the screams. A man, running towards her. His body coated in licking white flames.

Whether driven mad by rage or blinded with pain, he ran towards Emma with open, flailing arms. As if ready to embrace her in his inferno.

Emma made a short dash to the side and cleaved the man across the waist with her sword.

His scream pierced into Emma´s ears like needles before the flames silenced him.

"Emma!" A voice shouted.

She looked up and saw Johana, a heavy flamer with glowing promethium dripping from its muzzle in her arms. Her cheeks where flushed red and her dark hair reflecting the white glow of the flames from her weapon.

"Johana." Emma jogged up to her sister. The world seemed the shift and tilt every time her feet touched the ground. "What is going on?"

"We´re under attack." Johana glanced over Emma´s shoulder. "I don´t know from where they´re coming from."

Emma looked to her side and just ten meters away from them, she saw a sister gunned down. The shoots cutting through her thin robe, punching through the flesh and staining the white cloth in crimson. Loud thuds followed by the sound of metallic buzzing could be heard between the barks of gunfire.

"They´ve surrounded us." Emma took Johana by the shoulder and led her behind the tent. Out of sight for the gunner. The pair crouched down next to the tent while Emma peaked over the edge, trying to get a good look at their enemy.

"Down!" Johana shouted and pressed Emma to the ground. A series of white beams cut through the tent where Emma had been and left empty black holes.

With her face in the dirt, Emma could feel the heat of a fire stream behind her head. Looking up she could see the white jet of flames leaping from the muzzle of the flamethrower in a curved arch. The flames landed on the chest of a gunner. This one was next to her tent. Within a moment, his entire upper body was wrapped in searing white tongues. He barely managed to scream before the skin on his face peeled away and his skull cracked by the heat. Pink fluids seeped from the cracks and charred to black in an instant.

Emma shifted to her back, locked over her shoulder and tripped Johana to the ground with her legs. She hit the ground on her back and the flamethrower landed on her stomach. Behind them, the tent started shacking by the beams cutting through it. She tilted her head upwards, to the point of feeling the skin pulling at her chin, and managed to see the gunner on the other side.

He was dressed in the same armor as the other attackers and used an imperial lasgun. The sight of it made Emma snarl.

Then the gun stopped spitting beams. The tip of the muzzle was still smocking but the weapon was silent.

Emma didn´t hesitate. She got to her feet, stumbled at first before regaining her balance and charged.

The gun trembled in his arms and dark patch grew down his pants as she smacked the pommel of her sword into his cheek. The bone caved in at force of her strike.

He hit the ground with blood running from his face. Emma raised her sword and stroke down on his head. The skull split to the teeth.

Emma kicked the body to the ground and pulled the sword back. The blade slick with blood and gore. She looked over her shoulder and hurried back to Johana.

Johana struggled to rise with the weapon on her stomach. Emma offered her hand and helped to pull Johana to her feet.

Emma looked gave her sister a quick nod and looked around her. She tried making out anything of what was going on or where their sisters where but she was looking between rows upon rows of tents. She could hardly make anything past the row in front of her.

"Any idea where our sisters are?" Emma asked, keeping her eyes darting around for any sings of movements between the tents.

"No." Johana raised the heavy flamer to her chest and put a finger above the trigger.

Emma took few breaths through clenched teeth.

"Let´s head to the center." Johana said, putting a hand on her sister shoulder. "To the Canoness´ tent."

"Good idea." Emma nodded. "Let´s do it."

The pair turned around and started jogging. Johana was in front with Emma behind her. Emma kept an eye over her shoulder and to her side. The sound of barking guns and spewing flamers hanged thick in the air. Screams and roars where all around them. Screams of pain and roars of fury. Both ending in swift silence. And the thuds, the thuds of something mechanical seemingly growing louder and stronger with every passing second.

"Emma." Johana stopped her sister by putting her arm out in front of her. She pointed to her left.

Emma looked over and saw a sister. One wielding a sword sparking in blue lightning and covered by white robes stained with crimson blood. She was standing alone, charging a group of five soldiers. Each of them using lasguns but she leapt into the fray, making sure that one of the soldiers was in front of her as she attacked.

"We´ve got to help her." Johana said as she started jogging towards their sister.

Emma turned to Johana and looked into the row of tents on her right. She felt her heart take beat and ran after Johana.

When Emma caught up to Johana, she glanced to her left side, to the line of tents. She took Johana by the arm and gestured towards the tents. "I´ll come from the side."

Johana looked at Emma, then back at the sister. One of the soldiers she was fighting had drawn a weapon, a chainsword, and was fighting the sister in close quarters.

"Got it." Johana replied and moved forward.

Emma darted behind one of the tents. Out of sight of the soldiers. She crouched and ran with both her knees and back bent. Between each tent she rushed before taking a moment to slow down behind next the tent. When she got closer, Emma saw patches of dark skin peeking out from the tears and cuts in her sister´s robes. She could also see that the sister was wearing a hood covering most of her face. Emma quickly realized that it was Anna, the standard bearer.

Anna´s sword finally cut through the metal of the chainsword and the blade was quick to cut through the armor of the soldier wielding it. She pushed the halfdead man into the next one coming for her. The weight of the body was enough to send the soldier staggering as Anna engaged in combat with the next soldier. She flung her sword in quick, short cuts before her. She kept the pressure up and moved to the soldier's side, putting him between herself and the next soldier as he was about to ready up his lasgun.

Emma leapt out from the rows of tents. With a two-handed strike, she cut through the arms of the soldier on Anna´s front. Both Anna and the soldiers stunned by surprise. Emma rammed the point of her sword through the soldier´s neck. She then turned, put her arm around Anna´s neck and sent them both falling to the ground.

The ground gave Emma a hard smack on her forehead. The pain shoot through her body but Emma kept both herself and Anna pinned to the ground.

Above them, a burning, white stream leaped forward and sprayed over the ground and men behind them. The flames turned the moist ground to glowing gravel and turned the men into howling, running pyres.

Emma rolled of Anna and crawled away from the sea of fire.

"Emma?" Anna asked as she adjusted her hood. A few strings of silvery white hair where still peeking out and brushing against her dark skin.

"We´re heading to the center. To the Canoness´ tent." Emma put a hand on her knee and climbed to her feet. The inside of her head swaying as she rose.

The flaming stream stopped and Johana walked up to them. "Let´s go." She urged them.

Suddenly, the mechanical stomps grew louder, almost thunderous. The shadow of a figure taller than an orgyn moved behind the flames. A white light beamed from it, searching, hunting.

"Run!" Johana took Emma by the arm and dragged her to the row of tents. Anna followed, lagging at first but soon outrunning Johana with the heavy flamer.

The searchlight spotted them and burst of bullets followed in its path.

Emma threw herself to the ground as they reached the tent, landing in a small ditch running between the tents. Johana did the same, landing on her back with the flamer hitting her stomach again. Anna hit the ground next Emma.

Emma shifted to her back and managed to see the thing shooting at them. It was on a pair of thin, mechanical legs, holding a metallic box above the ground. On its side was a rotating turret, still spinning and glowing orange from the heat.

"A sentinel." Anna said.

The metal box was completely covered in armor. Only a narrow slit in the metal on the front gave the pilot any kind sight outwards. At first glance, Emma thought it was weakness. If they could get a stream of fire on that slit, the box would be filled with fire in an instant. The pilot would be roasted alive inside his own cabin. But then she noticed orange light reflecting of the slit. It was covered in glass.

"We need to head to the Canoness." Johana said, putting a hand no Emma´s shoulder.

"No." Emma put her hand over Johana´s. "We need to take this heretical machine down."

"I agree." Anna said as she turned, keeping her head below the edge of the ditch and out of sight of the sentinel. "This heretic needs to die." She ignited the glow of her blade. "Emma." Anna turned to her sister.

"Yes?"

"You will run out," Anna began. "Drawing its fire. When it´s shooting at you, Johana will give it a stream of fire to the cockpit and I will have a chance of destroying its legs."

"And it will send the machine crashing to the ground." Emma said.

"Yes." Anna said.

"Let´s do it." Emma nodded and turned. She crouched and walked forward with a hand on the ground. She looked at the sentinel. It was plodding forward, through the searing white flames. The white searchlight scanning the ground like an eagle searching for prey on the ground.

Emma took a hard breath through her teeth and ran forward.

She stumbled on the first step, her foot tripped on one of the ropes holding the tent up.

The sentinel turned, the headlight locking onto Emma.

With her heart lunging itself into her throat, Emma threw herself forward, somersaulting over the ground as the turret started spinning and a stream of bullets smacked the ground. Once her feet touched the dirt again, Emma pushed herself up and ran.

The bullets flew forward in little white flashes, tearing the ground up in little explosions behind Emma.

She didn´t look back. She didn´t look forward. She just kept her eyes looking down to the ground and put one foot in front of the other. Her heart beat two times with every step. With every beat, a cold surge spread through her chest and the muscle felt heavier inside her ribcage.

Emma bit down on her lip, to the point of feeling the skin breaking, and forced her eyes to look forward. It was only now that she could see that she was less than two steps away from the row of tents.

She ran into the row and past it. With the bullets peppered the ground behind her, Emma turned on the slippery wet ground, almost tripping, and pressed down in front of a tent with her back facing the sentinel. The entire tent trembled as if caught in a storm by the force of the bullets running through it. The ground in front of her feet was turned over by the little white flashes hammering into the dirt.

"Sister?" A voice asked.

Emma looked to her right and saw one of her sister. She wore the same robes as the other sisters and had a mop of golden brown hair reaching down to her shoulders.

"Get down!" Emma shouted.

The sister was stopped by the white light. The sonic bullets tore clean through her. Stains and splatters of crimson dotted the ground around her. She hit the ground with large gaping holes in her chest and head.

Emma felt goosebumps rising across her arms. She flexed her arm and looked back at the sentinel.

It stood idle, searching the area between the tents before starting to plod forward.

The hand holding the sword tightened its grip around the handle. The arm flexed and started trembling. The free hand clutched the fabric of her robe.

She looked over at the sentinel and Emma realized something. _He thinks that was me._ Emma looked over at the fallen sister. _A grave error._

Then the fire leaped forward, white and glowing. The burning promethium splashed onto the cockpit and the metallic box was splashed in the searing liquid. The machine seemed unmoved by the attack at first but then it came to a sudden stop. The white searchlight cracked and exploded in a burst of sparkling glass.

Emma flipped to her stomach and pushed herself up. Her feet kicked away some dirt before she could get ahold and push forward.

She ran, her sword held in both hands. The sentinel stood almost completely still, a few uncoordinated movements was all it could muster as it struggled to move away from the stream of flames Johana was laying on it.

The blade slammed into the sentinel's right leg. The metal screamed as the sparkling edge of the sword bit into it.

Emma pulled the sword out from the crack in the leg and stroke at it again. A chill bit into her shoulder as hydraulics fluid started leaking from the tubes she cut open. It was icy, burning. Emma felt the fabric of her robe hardening as the liquid squirted over her arm and back. She kept at it. Slamming her sword into the machines legs, hoping that something vital would eventually give in.

In the corner of her eye, Emma could see Anna. She was attacking the sentinel as well, slamming her sword into the machines leg.

The sentinel staggered and twitched as pistons gave in and the legs started sinking and folding downwards. But it did not fall. Whether by luck or effort from the pilot, the machine stopped its descent and managed to lock itself in a position where it was still standing but the legs weren´t moving. The cockpit on the other hand could still move. It shifted, staggering as the turret started spinning with newfound life. The burst coming out of it had no aim or goal, it was just spraying madly in front of itself.

Emma managed to get hold of a handle on the sentinel's leg. The metal was dripping with icy water and felt slippery to touch but she managed to retain her grip on it. The muscles in her arm strained as she pulled herself up to the sentinel´s knee. She raised her sword and stabbed into the fold of the leg. The tip of the blade pushed itself into the wires and tubes with ease but struggled when it reached metal. Feeling the sword stopping, Emma pulled it out and stabbed furiously. Warm and cold fluids leaked over her arm, sparks were born out every stab and quickly drowned in the fluids leaking from the sentinel.

Then there was a sudden crack. Emma felt the sword sinking suddenly inwards as the sentinel started produced a loud, metallic moan. The machine was started leaning to its right, towards Emma.

Emma tried pulling her sword lose but the blade was jammed in between the mechanical joints. With the sentinel timbering to its side, Emma let go of the sword and leapt to ground. Once she hit the ground she sprinted forward, putting the machine behind her.

The sentinel hit the ground with thunderous crash.

Emma turned to the fallen sentinel. The metal on the front of the cockpit was glowing orange at the center but the metal closer to the edges still retained their original color.

A hatch opened on the top of the cockpit, shimmering hot air rose from the hatch and a man crawled out on his elbows, trying to not let his hands touch the ground. He wore similar armor to the rest of the gunmen, but lacked a helmet. His arms were burning red and skin on his hands had peeled off, leaving a pale, blistered layer behind.

Emma walked up and grabbed him by the shoulders, dragging him out of the cockpit and pulled him to his feet. The moment he was up, Emma rammed her forehead into his nose, crushing it and causing a squirt of blood to spray out from his nose. His legs gave in and the only thing stopping him from hitting the ground was Emma holding up by the straps on his chest plate. He looked up at Emma, his mouth hanging wide open and his eyes half-closed. Emma felt her brows folding downwards as she rammed her fist into the underside of his jaw. His head flopped backwards, almost to the point of the back of his head touching his back. She gave him another punch, this time it hit her throat. She felt the skin folding inwards at the impact and he gave of a chocked gasp before he hit the ground, rattling and twitching like a fish out of water.

"Emma!"

She looked around the fallen sentinel and saw Johana. Her sister had her heavy flamer and a dull, quiet blade in her hands. She held the sword to Emma.

"Let´s go." Johana said as Emma took the sword in her hand.

They joined up with Anna and started running towards the center. The tents were either being turned to ash by the licking, hungry flames or torn down by gunfire. There were no sisters in sight, only smashed servitors and fallen tech-priests.

Finally, they reached the center. The Canoness´ tent. It was surrounded by sister armed with flamers and bolters, gunning down and burning anyone that came close to the line that they formed. Around the sisters, the ground was covered black burned corpses and steaming blood. Flying above the sisters, behind the line was their banner. The shining fabric waving and reflecting in the shimmering heat and light of the flames around it. Next to the banner, wielding a sword flickering with blue lightning and slick with blood, was the Canoness´ herself. She wore the same robe as the other sisters only her face was hidden, albeit partially, by a torn veil. Emma could make out the shape and size of her black eyes, but quickly adverted her eyes and followed her sisters.

When they first approached the sisters aimed their weapons at them, thinking another group of soldiers before they could get a good look at them. They parted and let them pass.

"Canoness." The standard bearer greeted with a nod as she adjusted her hood.

Emma and Johana took a deeper bow, putting their weapons and arms under their chests before leaning forward.

"Sisters!" The Canoness roared. "The standard bearer of our order has arrived!" She put a hand on Anna´s shoulder. "She will carry the banner forth as we bring fire and wrath to these cowardly heretics!" The Canoness let go of Anna´s shoulder and tore the banner free of the ground. She held it to Anna.

Anna looked up at the banner. The white hawk with wings ablaze and its talons held outwards, ready to strike. She held out her free arm and took it.

"We are the talons of the hawk!" Anna shouted and looked over the line of sisters. Her orange eyes hovered on Johana and Emma for a moment. "What do we bring?"

" _Fire and steel!_ " The sisters chanted.

"Heretics crave redemption in flames. But there is no redemption for these heretics. We will only bring the wrath of the Emperor on these heretical fools!" Anna hoisted the banner above her head, the fabric twisted and turned around the rod by the shimmering hot air. "We will not stand idle, waiting for their next attack! They are heretics! Traitors, and they will fell the talons of the hawk!"

The Canoness stood next to Anna. She raised her sword and the sound of a thousand screaming birds fill the air. "Spearhead formation!" She commanded.

The sisters started lifting their weapons of the makeshift mounts they had made and formed a diagonal line from the Canoness. Emma and Anna was at the Canoness´ side and Johana was at Emma´s.

"Forward!" The Canoness pointed her sword out in front of her.

If the formation was called spearhead, then the Canoness was the point. The sisters wielding bolters and flamers where the edges. Emma and Anna where extensions of the point.

They marched through the camp, through the burned and tarnished ground. The black ash under their feet crunching under their feet as they walked through the still smoke parts of the camp. They encountered fallen sisters, their corpses torn to pieces by boltfire. Blood and gore splattered over their white cloths. Servitors, still plodding around either still performing their tasks or waiting for orders.

Apart from the noises of burning, cracking wood and the moans of servitors still clinging to life, there was a strange silence hanging over the camp.

Emma grabbed her robe in her free hand started rubbing the cloth between her thumb and index finger.

 _Where have they gone?_ She wondered as they marched towards the edge of the camp.

The roars and screams that had filled the camp in a chaos of fire and blood were all but gone. The warm, glowing light of the fires where still there but the embers where fading, turning to grey. The blood was still on the ground but it had dried, changing from crimson to jet black. Making difficult to tell apart from the ashes at first glance.

After a few minutes of walking, they finally reached the edge of the camp. About twenty meters away from the camp, there was a line. A line of soldiers, armed with lasguns and pointing them to the sisters. Behind them was a tall man, dressed in a long leathery coat and wearing a cap donned with the empirical Aquila, a commissar.

The moment the Canoness saw the double headed eagle in his cap, she raised her sword and shattered the silence with the sound a thousand birds screaming out in terror. "Fire!"

The sisters behind her unleashed arching streams of fire and torrents of bolter rounds. The line was torn apart before any of the soldiers had a chance to react. A few ran forward, between the streams of white flames only to be torn to pieces by the barking mad bolters. One man tried to retreat, running away from the battle.

The moment he turned and took one steep back, the tall man pulled his weapon and shoot them him in the back.

The Commissar shouted and pointed to his soldiers, trying to organize some kind of counter attack. He managed to gather ten soldiers and sent them forward.

The men charged forward, swords drawn in their hands and shouting as they ran.

The one who made it furthest only managed ten steeps, barely halfway, before he stopped. His right arm hanging from his shoulder by a few thin strings of flesh and meat. He looked at it and started tilting forward, the ground gave of a loud smack as he planted face first into the dirt.

Behind the line, another man tried to run and was immediately stopped by a bolter round to the back.

"Fight you cowards!" The Commissar shouted as the lasguns of went silent.

The Canoness raised her sword. "Attack!" She charged across the open field, between the curving rushes of fire, to the men on the other side.

Emma and Anna followed.

As she started running, Emma could feel her head swaying again. With every step she took, it felt as if she was on a thin raft on an open sea, the thing swirling and shifting as she pressed down on it. She could feel herself leaning forward as she ran forward.

The Canoness was the first to reach the front. She leaped over the small cover the men had built and split the man on the other side from shoulder to hip. Anna came second, the guardsman she attacked raised his lasgun in an effort block the incoming attack.

The blade didn´t stop until it was down at the center of his chest.

Emma took a leap forward, her sword pulled back to chest and the free hand next to the tip of the blade. She took hold of a guardsman´s shoulder and pushed the sword into his chest.

The backplate of his armor cracked aside as the point of her sword sprouted forward.

The Commissar stared at the sisters in front of him. His brows folding down and the right part of his upper lip twitching. He put the bolter into his left hand and drew his own sword. A cold, metallic blade just like the sisters, this one screaming with the sound of a thousand birds as well.

The Canoness´ black eyes meet with the Commissar´s brown ones. They ran for each other, their blades clanging and screaming as they exchanged kisses of metal.

After just a few quick strikes at each other, the Canoness and the Commissar locked their blades into each other and started pushing towards each other. The Canoness, with both her hands on the blade, slowly pushing him back.

The Commissar gritted his teeth and pressed his boltgun into the Canoness´ stomach.

Her elbow came down and smacked the boltgun aside.

The bullet tore of a chunk of her stomach and a spray of meat and gore flew from the wound.

The sword started slipping from her grip as the Canoness staggered. Her knees bent and the Commissar raised his sword to strike her down.

But the Canoness stopped the sword in its descent. She caught his wrist and rose to her feet, roaring and ramming her fist into the Commissar´s stomach. He staggered and took a steep back. The Canoness didn´t wait for him to recover. While holding onto the Commissars sword hand, she threw a punch into his face, sending bits of broken, yellow teeth flying out from his broken lip.

With the Commissar stunned, the Canoness took him by the neck and waist, lifted him above her head and slammed his back over her knee.

The back of his head almost touched into the folds of his knees.

The Canoness threw the broken body aside.

The faces of the men who saw this turned snow white. They did not dare to move, even less raise their weapons to any of the sisters.

One of them threw his weapon to the ground. He held up his arms. "I surrender." He said.

The other men started doing the same, tossing their weapons to the ground and holding their arms up in the air.

Emma watched the men with narrow eyes. The fingers clasping the hilt of her sword, relaxed and tightened.

The guardsmen started slowly pacing towards the Canoness. Their arms hovering above their heads. They gathered before the Canoness and stood completely still. All of the guardsmen´s eyes where wide open and their hands shook like leaves in the wind.

The Canoness put one hand on the wound and gestured to one of the sisters behind them with the other.

Emma broke her gaze with the guardsmen and looked over her shoulder. The sister coming towards them was Johana. She jogged towards the Canoness, her flamer still glowing orange with the burning promethium behind its maw.

The first guardsman to surrender looked at Johana. His eyes grew to the point of the balls almost fell out and the pupils shrank to the size of dots. "We surrender!" The tone of his voice was more a shriek than anything else.

"There is no mercy for heretical cowards." The Canoness said with a growl. She made a flick with her hand.

Johana lifted her flamer and a flickering white stream spewed forth. One by one, the men were wrapped in flames. Their armor melted, sticking to their skin, pealing it away to expose the red flesh beneath. Some of the tried to run away but Johana was quick to give them a shower of the burning promethium.

Emma stared at the men burning. One of them was still alive. He crawled towards Emma on his blackened arms, wincing and moaning as he pushed himself forward. The air above him shimmered as the flames ate at his back.

Emma turned her sword in her hands and with the blade pointing downwards, she stabbed the man through the back. He gave of a sigh and sank to the ground, his face quietly settling on the mud.

"Fire purges." Emma said and pulled the sword out. She looked over at Johana, flames dripping from the muzzle of the weapon.

Johana gave her a slight nod in response.


	9. Chapter 8

The black rose chapter 8

The chill made little pimples rise across Johana´s skin. Though a layer of dry sweat covered her, Johana felt icy when she ran her hand across her skin. She rolled over to her stomach and tried pushing her face into the pillow.

A second later, she shifted and put her cheek on the pillow. She stared at the wall of the tent with dry, irritated eyes. She tried closing them but felt them jumping open just a moment later.

Johana sighed and put a hand on her face, the tip of her fingers over her eyes. She closed them and started rubbing the corners. Little flakes of dried flakes crunched between her fingers and eyelids. Her eyes opened again and she pushed her head into her pillow again. A tingle hung in the back of her head. It bit and stung. Johana put a hand on the back of her head and scratched through the stiff, black hairs.

"Can´t sleep?" Emma asked.

Johana turned to her other side to face her sister. Emma was lying in the bed opposite hers. With most of the camp in ruins, the sisters were forced to share tents for the night until support arrived.

"Mhm." Johana replied with a nod.

"Me neither." Emma said shifting to lay on her back. Her head tilted back and she rubbed the corner of her eye. "Couldn´t sleep before the ambush either. Or the night before the battle."

"It's always scary when the Emperor´s wrath is about to be unleashed."

"It makes the heart race." Emma said with a cold tone while staring blankly into the roof.

Johana put a hand over her chest, feeling the warm, little beats of the muscle beneath the ribcage. "I can´t imagine anything that would make the heart race faster."

Emma tilted her head to the side. She looked over at Johana. "No… I don´t think I can either."

"I hear that every night before a great battle, the Canoness wanders off from the camp, finds a suitable spot, prays and then the martyred Lady herself appears. Giving our Canoness guidance on our quest."

Emma blinked slowly a few times. "I wonder what the Lady looks like." Emma said as she turned back and her gaze shifted upwards.

"They say she became a saint of the God-Emperor himself. She flies into battle on a pair of white angelic wings with an encrusted silvery armor and sword wrapped in golden white flames."

"I hope we get to see her one day."

"So do I." Johana tucked herself in and shifted in the bed.

Emma gave Johana a puzzling look. "Are you cold?" She asked.

"Yes."

"Come here." Emma lifted her blanket. "It´ll be warmer if we sleep next to each other."

Johana´s brows leaped to her forehead. She couldn´t recall the last time she had slept next to someone or if she had ever done it. At first the legs refused to move but just a second later they seemed ready to leap out of the bed.

The floor felt cold and hard under her feet. The dirt rolled up between her toes as Johana walked towards Emma´s bed. She sat down at the edge of it and stopped.

Emma put a hand on Johana´s shoulder.

Johana felt the muscles that had tightening suddenly relaxing. She leaned back and let herself sink down into the bed with her sister. Emma´s arms wrapped around her and pulled Johana towards her.

On her back, Johana could fell Emma´s chest pressing against her. The warmth of Emma´s body pushing through both their robes. The skin on the underside of Emma´s arms brushing against Johana´s felt soft and the smell of her golden hair filled Johana´s nose.

"You´re warm." Emma said into Johana´s ear.

"Sorry."

"It´s okay." Emma put her cheek on the back of Johana´s head. "I don´t mind."

Johana drew a soft sigh and looked at Emma´s hands lying just in front of her own. She reached forward took Emma´s hand with her own. Slowly, Johana´s fingers started gently wrapping around Emma´s.

Behind Johana´s head, Emma smiled and started rubbing her thump on Johana´s hand.

The soft beat of Emma´s heart pushed against Johana´s back. Every time Emma took a breath the beats pushed a little bit harder against Johana´s back. But she didn´t mind. The warmth and feeling of hawing someone wrapped around her made Johana´s eyelids grow heavy. The pace of her breaths slowed down and she started to struggle to keep her eyes open.

Just a few moments the eyelids sank down and Johana drifted off to sleep.


	10. Chapter 9

The black rose chapter 9

The ice in his whiskey had almost melted. Only a few drifting crystals remained floating in the brown liquor. Derik swirled the glass, staring at the ice crystals being tossed from one end to the other in the little maelstrom born of his gesture.

He sighed and put the glass down on his desk. His fingers tapped on the glass as he rested his chin in his palm. A quick swig disappeared down his mouth and one of the remaining islands of ice with it.

The ringer to his door buzzed. It was loud, grating noise that would have made Derik jump if he was not used to it.

"Come in." He said.

The door opened with a hiss and a figure dressed in crimson robes stepped into the room. With the metallic wires and yellow dots staring out from the hood it was not only plain for Derik to know that it was a tech-priest but also who it was.

"Tayber." Derik said. "What brings you? Come to challenge me to another game?"

"No." The tech-priest put his hands together and the metallic wires that served as hands interlocked. "I´ve come to ask you a question."

"I´m an inquisitor. It´s usually I who asks the questions. You do know, tech-priest, that knowledge is power."

"And thus, it must be guarded well."

"Indeed. You may ask your question and I may choose to answer it."

The yellow dots hiding under the hood peeked forward. "Why are we still here? Why have we not left for Cadia?"

"Because, tech-priest," Derik rose from his desk and started pacing around the room. "I do not want unnecessary blood spilled."

The yellow dots shifted back and forth. "Can you explain further?"

"As an inquisitor, I have the right to take entire of armies of the Adeptus Militarum from their generals, execute the most esteemed nobles on sight of every one of his friends and even bring down exterminatus, cleansing an entire planet, should I deem it necessary. But what happens when I take an army away from their general? If I kill an esteemed and beloved noble? If kill every single living thing on a planet?"

Tayber didn´t answer. He just stood still, the yellow dots moved up and down beneath his hood.

"The soldiers of the army will hate me. An entire army forced to follow a commander they may not have seen before. An outsider who´s not led them to battle, an outsider who´s not bleed and killed at their side. Then I have an army that hates me and all it will take then is one particularly brave or foolish soldier to point a gun to my head and I´m dead.

"The noble will have friends, some will surely be pleased to see a rival removed, but some will view me a butcherer, a mad killer who decided to murder someone of high stature. And one noble holding a grudge can be deadlier than army of foolish soldiers.

"And finally, the planet I choose to cleanse. We are a galaxy spanning imperium, one planet feeds the next and the other feeds the next. Soo what happened when I decided that the other planet of the Imperium has become corrupted or is simply beyond salvation. It will not have been an unnecessary act, just like an infected leg needs to be removed in order to save the body. But what about the planet they were feeding? Or the planet that was feeding of it?" Derik marked with a finger. "Know this tech-priest, whether you are the governor of a planet, living inside an estate atop a hive city, or a member of the penal legions, crawling through cold mud as a commissar shouts at you to keep pushing forward, every human need sustenance. So if I burn a planet then nobles and soldiers alike will want to see my head roll just to quiet their anger."

"So what do you do instead, inquisitor?" The yellow dots peeking out of the red hood leered forward.

Derik folded his arms over his chest. "I convince them, tech-priest. I convince the army that I will lead them to great victories, I convince the nobles that the one I killed was either a traitor or a heretic, and I make sure that the neighboring planets are compensated or make sure that they see the reasons I cleansed it as clearly as I do."

"That sounds slow and inefficient." The tech-priest replied with a tone of synthesized voice that Derik assumed was some kind of annoyance.

"In the moment, yes." Derik nodded. "Yes, it is. But it in the long term… how should I put it." He rubbed his chin and felt the freshly shaved skin on his fingers. "It's like building a fortress. You could put down some simple barricades, set up parameters made of steel walls and it will work but not for long. It will not last a long siege or withstand a heavy strike. If you take your time, slowly building the walls, setting up turrets and making sure that every angle is covered, it will stand well past your time and the commander after that."

"Curious way of viewing things." Tayber said. "But time is of the essence and the forces of chaos will not wait for this war to pass."

"I know." Derik rubbed a finger on his arm, pressing the tip of it down on his arm. "Which is why I don´t spend time idle."

The door knocked.

"Come in."

It was one of Derik´s servants that entered. He nodded when seeing Derik and Tayber.

"Excuse me, lord Inquisitor. I did not know that you were occupied."

"It´s alright, we were just done here." Derik turned to Tayber and the tech-priest gave the inquisitor a bow before leaving.

"What matters do you bring?" Derik asked the servant.

"There is man here to meet you. He is the lord general of the imperial guard on this planet and he claims to be a close associate of the local governor."

 _As per demand._ Derik thought.

"Send him in." Derik gestured to his servant and returned to his desk.

Back behind the desk, Derik picked his glass back up and twirled it a few times before taking another sip. The little islands of ice had melted and disappeared into the amber liquor.

The sight made Derik chuckle. Both out of irony and poignancy. He took a small chug before the General entered Derik´s chamber.

"Lord Inquisitor." The General performed a customary nod. He was a relatively young man, looking to be just a little bit more than thirty Terran years. He had dark, almost black hair and brown eyes with early sings of wrinkles forming around them. Around the General´s temple, Derik noticed a narrow shore of silvery white hair.

"Lord General." Derik left his desk and offered the General his hand.

The General shook it. "I´m glad you could receive me at such short notice."

Derik gave him a courteous smile. "It´s no problem General…?"

"Corey." He replied with a firm tone. "Corey Ironfield."

"Derik Horst." They let go of their hands. "Can I offer you a drink?"

"Yes."

Derik walked behind his desk and picked up a bottle filled with amber liquor.

"I prefer wine." The General said but took the glass anyway. He gave it a small whirl and sniffed it before taking a small chug. He smacked his lips and put the glass down on the table. He sat down in the chair placed on the other side of the desk and pushed the glass aside. "Regardless of that I´m not here to taste liquor."

"I´d never assume a general to be meeting an inquisitor for something so simple."

"Indeed, Inquisitor." Corey leaned back in the chair. "Alfred told me of your conversation. He told me you insulted the sisters and tried to pry them away from the conflict they are dealing with at this weary moment."

"Did he tell you anything else?" Derik put his hands together and leaned his chin on them.

"No. But I did not come here because of him." The General adjusted himself in his chair. "I bring urgent news regarding the sisters. The talons company were just a few hours ago ambushed."

"What? How?"

"The traitors tried to attack the sisters in their camp while they slept, hoping to cause a massacre and cripple their assault."

"How many sisters where lost?" Derik fingers flexed into fists.

"Barely even a quarter. The sisters did not only manage to fight them of but killed every one of the attackers. They fought of trained and armed treacherous imperial soldiers in plain robes."

Derik sat still, his brows hovering in the center of his forehead. "The sisters truly live up to their reputations. Even some Astartes chapters would be impressed."

"Indeed, but is suspect this was not a carefully planned or coordinated attack on behalf of the traitors."

"What makes you said that?" Derik asked.

The General leaned forward. "According to the report I have received, it was a relatively small attacking force lead by a commissar. This and the siege the sisters carried out some time before leads me to think that this was more of a desperate, improvised attempt to halt the sisters rather than an intentional move by the enemy."

"You do not believe it was their skill and fury that caused the traitors to fail in their ambush?"

The General took slow breath. "Skill and fury are important on any battlefield. But if the enemy catches you with your back turned even the greatest warrior will fall by a single stab. This time they got lucky. They have moved far ahead of their support and where left exposed to attacks. This could have easily turned into a blood soaked massacre."

 _A wise commander._ Derik felt himself smiling at the General´s answer. "And how would you answer the traitor´s attack?"

"What would I do?" Corey shrugged. "I would have the sisters join forces with the Imperial guard, abandon their quest and fight alongside my troops to put a swift end to this conflict."

"I can´t say that I don´t agree with that."

"However," Corey raised a finger. "There is little I can do. The sisters are a part of the Ecclesiarchy, a part of the church and are not under my command. They answer to the Cardinal."

"In other words, to Alfred." Derik sighed.

"My hands are tied in this matter. Yours however are not."

Derik rubbed a finger softly on his arm. He felt his arm tensing and the muscles flexing under his coat. "You want me to issue an order." Derik finally said. "You want me to order the sisters to join your forces because I am an inquisitor of the Emperor and that means that my authority stands above Alfred's."

Corey nodded.

Inside his chest, Derik felt his heart being replaced with lump of solid ice. Slowly at first, but soon the ice started rushing across the flesh. Replacing the warm, soft flesh hard, cold crystals. He harbored little doubt about what he wanted to say, but what he should say was hidden in black smog.

"What is the quest that the sisters have been tasked with?" Derik asked.

"They are tasked by the Cardinal to retrieve the maiden of Astryoa."

"And who is the maiden of Astryoa?"

"She is a maiden chosen by the Emperor, a woman who´s touch will clench and absorb all heresy and sin. It is even said that she can wash away the corruption and taint of chaos." Corey answered. "The traitors have taken her hostage. They have kept her locked inside a fortress since the start of this war."

"So, the sisters want her back."

"The sisters and Alfred." Corey remarked.

"Do the sisters know of the maiden´s abilities?"

"Yes it´s common knowledge. Before the war started, people would go on pilgrimage just to be given the touch of maiden and receive her blessing."

Derik rubbed his chin before asking the next question. "Am I wrong to assume that Alfred chose the sisters for this task because he believes them to be of purer faith then the imperial guard and the only ones worthy of retrieving the sacred maiden?"

"No, you are not wrong." Corey shook his head. "I would never doubt the sister's capabilities nor the purity of their faith but the traitors have put the maiden inside a heavily fortified fortress sitting in front of a mountain wall. More than a thousand men guard it and antiair weaponry make it impossible to attack from the sky. The sisters will have to assault it from the ground." The General leaned forward and pushed a breath out through his nose. "Generally, the sisters divide into four major companies, the talons the wings and the tail. The talons are in the center, fighting on the ground with swords, flamers and bolters. The wings are the side of the talons, taking to the air with jump packs and flamers. The tail acts as reserves and heavy support. This makes for an effective and proven tactic on an open battlefield. But when laying siege to a fortress it will not be as effective. If they decide to assault the fortress, the hawk will be wandering back home with broken wings, shattered talons and a plucked tail."

Derik put his hands on the desk, the fingers on his right hand drummed against the wood. He sighed and reached for parchment and quill. The mechanical quill was prepared with jet black ink.

"Are you issuing the order for the sisters to abandon the quest and join my troops?" The General asked when the Inquisitor started writing.

"No." Derik answered without looking up from the paper. "I am writing an order for the sisters and to you."

The General´s eyes widened to the point that the wrinkles around them flattened. "What?"

The Inquisitor put the quill aside and blew a puff of air over the parchment. "You are to send troops to aid the sisters in their quest and the sisters will fight, sleep and eat alongside them so that an ambush like this one may not happen again."

"But-" The General stuttered. "Lord Inquisitor why?"

"If I order the sisters to abandon their quest and join your armies, both they and the governor will hate me for forcing them to give up on their sacred duty."

"Just by doing this they´ll despise you." The General´s eyes sank into a frown.

"It's better than being hated." Derik leaned forward. "There is a war coming that will make this conflict look like children squabbling over a toy. The Imperium is going to need the best soldiers it can muster to fight of the forces of chaos."

The General´s brown eyes narrowed. "So the sisters are more important to you than my troops?"

"In war, a single soldier can be the difference between victory and defeat." He held the parchment towards the General. "Once the sisters have retrieved the maiden I´ll have them join with your troops. Together they´ll work to put this conflict to a swift end."

The General´s mouth twisted and a grunting breath passed his breath. It was clear to Derik that the General was not pleased with the orders Derik had issued.

 _Take the damn order._ Derik´s eyes started narrowing.

The General reached out his hand and took the paper. He rolled it up and wrapped his fingers around it.

"Regardless of what order you give, Alfred will hate you for this." The General turned and walked out of the room before Derik could answer.

The Inquisitor grunted and rubbed his eye. He took the glass of and sent a large swig down his throat before taking another paper and picked up the quill. "Hate me for all he will. I can´t let him risk the sisters any longer."


	11. Chapter 10

The black rose chapter 10

The sun's rays stung her eyes. Out of reflex, Johana raised her hand to block the light and was blinded until her eyes adjusted. She blinked a few times and saw the yellow beams peeking through the tent´s flaps. She tried rising out of bed but was stopped by an arm wrapped around her stomach.

Johana looked over her shoulder and there Emma was, lying next to her. A wash of her golden hair running over her eyes and a faint smile on her lips.

At first Johana was about to put her left hand on Emma´s arm to pull herself free but paused when her fingers were about to grasp Emma´s wrist. Her hand hovered still for a moment. Instead of taking Emma´s wrist, her hand sank down on Emma´s and she put her head back on the pillow, next to Emma.

The corners of her mouth started rising and Johana closed her eyes. She didn´t fall asleep. She just laid still and listened to the sound of Emma breathing next to her.

One of her eyes opened at the feeling of a soft tingle on her right hand. Walking along her index finger, violet wings standing upright, was a butterfly no larger than her fingernail. It walked forward, towards her arm, pausing every few steps to push its violet wings up and down as if waving towards her. The edges of the wings where marked with a line of bright purple squares and at the center where a pair of bright orange eyes.

Without thinking, Johana lifted her hand and started pulling Emma´s arm.

"Emma." She whispered, the butterfly still sitting on her finger. "Wake up."

Emma simply grunted in response.

"Wake up." Johana pulled Emma´s arm harder now but kept her eyes locked to the butterfly.

Emma slowly opened her eyes and yawned. "What is it?"

"A butterfly." Johana turned to Emma. "Look at it…"

When Johana turned back to her hand the butterfly was gone. She only managed to catch a glimpse of it before the violet wings with orange eyes disappeared out between the flaps of the tent.

Johana folded her fingers together and rubbed her thump where the butterfly had been.

"What did you say?" Emma asked, pushing her hair back.

"There was a butterfly on my finger." Johana replied with distant voice. "It just flew away."

Emma stretched her arms. "Shame. I´ve only seen them in pictures."

"It was beautiful."

"I´m sure it was." Emma said.

A sigh passed Johana´s lips and she crawled to the edge of the bed. She sat still for a moment, her finger grasping the fabric of the mattress. With a little leap, Johana got out of the bed and walked over to her own.

Behind her, Emma climbed out of her own bed and they started putting on their customary clothes and shoes.

"Are you done?" Emma asked, pushing a lock of her golden hair behind her ear.

"Yes." Johana tied her black hair behind her head and they left the tent together.

* * *

Later that day, the talons company where joined by the tail company. Rhinos, crushing any trees and bushes under their plated treads came rolling forward in rows. In the center of the first row was an ancient warmachine. It was the same shape and size as the Rhinos next to it but the top of it was armed with rows of golden tubes behind a raised piece of cover. It was an exorcist launcher. A long-range tank able to launch barrages of Hunter-missiles into the air. Destroying bunkers and fortifications with ease. Wandering next to the tanks, clothed in thick, crimson robes were tech-priests. The grey smoke of burning incense mixed with the brown dirt that the treads of the rhinos kicked up.

Walking in front of the tanks was a company of sisters. They carried heavy bolters and flamers all attached to one a feed of ammo or fuel on the backs of their armor. Some of their backpacks where visibly larger than the other, jet engines peeking over their shoulder pauldrons. Walking before them was the palatine of the company, the pauldrons of her armor adorned with two torches burning white flames and her left eye missing, replaced with red mechanical monocle. A red mace hung at her hip.

Together the sisters and the war machines where the Tail of the Hawk.

The Canoness was the first to meet the arrivals. Though the wound she had suffered at the ambush had not healed, she displayed no signs of pain. And if she had, most of them would have been hidden under her helmet.

"Canoness." The palatine knelt before the Canoness.

"Rise Galatea." The Canoness said.

Galatea´s amber colored eyes meet the Canoness´s red helmet visors.

"I have brought the support you ordered." Galatea gestured towards the tanks and sisters behind her. "My tech-priests will help you restore and repair your armaments."

"Good." The Canoness lead Galatea to the camp. "How many tech-priests did you bring?"

"Fifty, Canoness." Galatea wandered next to the Canoness, looking towards the camp as grey ash started gathering on the tails of her orange robes.

"I must warn you," The Canoness said with both her hands behind her back. "The tech-priests will not have much rest for the days to come. During the ambush, a great deal of our armaments were damaged or outright destroyed and most of our tech-priests were killed. Even fifty tech-priests will take at least three days to manage all of the damages caused by the traitors."

"It will not be a problem. The tech-priests will work day and night to make sure we have armaments for every sister."

"They will." The Canoness said. "Until every armor is repaired we will not march forward."

"Forgive me Canoness." There was a paus before Galatea's next words. "But I must ask, did you receive the orders?"

"What orders? Orders from the Cardinal?" The long range vox-caster was damaged during the assault. Messages going in had been difficult to read.

"No." Galatea said.

The Canoness stopped. "From who then?"

"From a member of the emperor's holy inquisition." Galatea said, standing behind the Canoness. "Derik Horst of the order Hereticus."

"And what are his orders?"

The palatine reached behind her back and returned with a scroll. "I think it best if you read them for yourself."

The Canoness threw Galatea a glance over her shoulder and took the scroll. She unraveled it and her eyes darted from side of the paper to the other until they reached the end of the message. Her hand let go of the bottom of paper and the parchment rolled back together. The hand still holding the parchment coiled into a fist, the message folding and crushing between her fingers. Beneath her helmet the Canoness´s black eyes narrowed.

"These are his orders?" The tone of the Canoness ´s voice was hard and cold.

"Yes." Galatea replied. "Are you not going to follow them?"

The Canoness looked up at the sky. "We are the sisters of battle. The daughters of the Emperor. We enact his will for his glory." The fingers holding the message shifted. "The Imperial guard are the soldiers of the Imperium, they follow the orders of Generals for fear of the guns of the commissars. They are not worthy of joining us in our quest, or aiding us as this message states. But the inquisition are the agents of the Emperor´s will. His orders are above my questioning or authority." She turned to palatine. "Send word back. Tell the Inquisitor that the imperial guard have three days to reach us, until then we march forward and they will have to catch up to us."

"As you will, my lady."

"Until then, your tech-priests and servitors will be working to make sure that every sister´s battle gear is made fit for battle."

"Of course." The palatine nodded before turning to relay the orders she had been given.

The Canoness stood firmly still. Her back turned to Galatea´s forces. She lifted the hand holding the message and looked at the crumbled paper between her fingers.

 _Emperor,_ she whispered in her mind. _Why have you sought to taint our quest? Why has one of your agents decided to bring those unworthy in to the path of the enlightened? Bring me answers, Emperor._

* * *

"What happened to this armor?" The tech-priest asked, leaning over the plates placed before him like he was examining a week-old corpse.

"It took fire from a heavy bolter." Emma pointed to the bits scrapped of metal on the armor´s side. "After that I fought an ogryn. Ended up taking a few bad beatings in the process."

The tech-priest snorted. "The machine spirit protects." He said as he started touching and feeling up the armor by caressing it with his fingers, some of which were reinforced with mechanical joints.

"The Emperor protects." Emma remarked, looking down at the tech-priest. Most of his face hidden by the crimson hood of his order but she could make out some grey stubble in his skin and a vague silhouette that made up the rest of his face.

"Of course, sister." He nodded. His voice was distorted by a vox grill covering his mouth, making every word that came out of the tech-priest´s mouth a grating combination of metallic rattling and human words.

"Can it be repaired?"

The tech-priest´s hands moved up and down the side of the armor. Gently caressing the metal and giving the damaged bits extra attention.

"It can." He answered without moving his sight from the plate he was caring for.

"How long will it take?"

"Your Canoness gave us three days to before we would move again." The tech-priest turned to Emma. Under the hood, was the skin belonging to an old, dry man. The skin was merely a thin almost dusty layer, barely hiding the metallic joints and rubbery wires beneath. One of his eyes was flesh, the other was a yellow lens. "I will be done with this by nightfall." None of the features that would have made up a face made any effort to form the grin Emma was expecting. They just hung still.

"Then get to work." Emma turned and left the tent.

Outside there where sisters, tech-priests and servitors walking beside or past each other. The sisters mostly walking past a brisk pace while the tech-priests walked comparably slowly forward. The servitors mostly plodded clumsily forward, usually carrying or dragging heavy ornaments.

Emma hurried past most of it. She saw some of the sisters carrying the bodies of fallen sisters in their arms. The bodies wrapped in thick, black fabrics. Though most of the fires where snuffed or dead the scent of ash and burned fat still hung over the camp.

The smell of it made Emma´s nose twitch. She made a light cough and walked towards her tent.

The walls of the tent had been charred during the night, leaving some blackened holes in it. Wind and cold had nothing stopping them from going through.

Emma took a moment to look at the state of it. She entered the tent and reached under the bed. Her hand returned with the box from the night before.

Emma sat down in the bed and put the box in her lap. She opened it and picked up the mirror again. The reflection in the glass had strings of golden hair reaching down from her head, waving slightly between the air of her breaths. She pushed the lose strings behind her ears and brushed the rest of her hair over her scalp.

She scratched her head a little bit and enjoyed the feeling over her fingers running across her golden hairs.

When she pulled her hand back, a few of yellow strings followed her fingers back.

"Emperor grant me a bath." Emma mumbled to herself and took the comp to start pulling the broken hairs out.

Johana´s hand moved up and down the outside of her right thigh, gently rubbing it. The cloth gave her hand a strange, distant feeling as she dragged the robe across her leg. She could feel the muscles in her leg stiffening, aching in some parts.

She put her left leg over the other and started rubbing the calf on her shin. The soft, relaxed muscle above rubbed against the hard bone beneath. Her eyes closed and Johana put both her hands on the mattress. A gasp passed her lips as she dragged leg up and down her thigh.

The feeling of her legs, rubbing against each other made her heart race a little bit and her right hand started crawling to her thigh.

Her eyes opened, a cold wash running from her heart.

 _This is…_ The final word stopped. _This is…_

Her right hand found its way back to her thigh. Slowly it started crawling over it. With her left hand, she started pulling her rob back. Soon the right hand was on the bare skin of her thigh. Her fingers moving up and down her leg, tickling and tiptoeing across her skin.

Johana put her left hand her chest, clasping the robe and pulling it tight to her neck. Her eyes closed again and she bit down on her lip.

The right hand made its way down to the inside of her thigh and started crawling up her leg. Every time her finger touched her skin, each time her hand moved forward, it felt a little bit warmer and a little bit wetter. The muscles in her arm tensed. As if hooks and lines where sinking into the flesh of her arm, trying to pull it back. But her hand still crawled forward. The tips of her fingers started slipping on the moist texture of her skin. Soon it felt hot, almost burning.

The fingers finally made their way to the center. Between her legs.

She gasped as the tips of her fingers crawled inside her. It stung a little bit at first but the pain soon faded and turned into intense feelings of pleasure. Her lower jaw started to tremble as she pushed her fingers in and out. A moan tried to escape her closed mouth.

The left hand grasping the cloth on her chest let go and shifted to her side, the fingers wrapping around her left breast. They squeezed and dug into her skin.

She moaned again, this time her lips where parted but the sound was still subtle, quiet almost.

The fingers started thrusting forward, before Johana let them sink out and thrusted them inwards again. The feeling of her fingers thrusting inwards made Johana´s jaw hang open as she fought with herself to close it.

Eventually she managed to catch her lip between her teeth and held it as she started thrusting her fingers inwards faster. Moisture started building on her skin. The sheet of the mattress started sticking to her.

The fingers went faster.

The teeth holding her lip managed to push through the skin and crack the lip. A thin stream of blood rolled of her lip, down to her chin.

Faster.

Her body started thrusting in the bed. The pillow fell of the edge and the sheet started twisting and folding.

Finally, she felt an explosion between her legs. A squirt of warm liquids spilled out over her hand and Johana felt her whole body relaxing and sinking into the bed.

She gasped for air as if she was on the verge of drowning, her heart still racing and her body moist with sweat. She put her hand on her face, her face twisting in despair as a cold rock formed in her throat.

Quietly, the sister started crying as she realized her flesh was hungry for more.


	12. Chapter 11

The black rose chapter 11

The sisters' blades sparred against each other. The shimmering steel of their swords birthed bursts of sparks each time they touched. Emma made a feint to her left, aiming to face Johana´s back.

Johana only managed to get out of the path of Emma's attack by making a quick dash forward. She turned on her heel and put the handle of her sword at her hip, the point of her sword at Emma's head.

Emma grunted and attacked.

In response, Johana lifted her sword forward. The point of the blade thrusting towards Emma's head. Emma responded by putting her sword against Johana´s. The edges of their blades scrapped against each other. Sparks came from the swords running along each other but the metal screeched in a high pitch. Emma used the force of her movement to push Johana's sword aside and leave her open to attack.

Johana reached forward and snapped her left hand around the wrist of Emma's sword arm. With the sword arm locked, she pulled her own sword back for a strike. The sword swung for Emma's head.

The blade was meet by Emma's arm, the black ceramite of her armor releasing a splash of sparks when the strike hit. The burst made Johana flinch.

Emma turned her arm and grabbed Johana by the wrist.

The sisters stood locked with each other, their arms trembling and slowly moving as they pushed to have one or the other move.

Emma felt her left arm slowly moving downwards and her right arm moving towards Johana. She quickly turned her head to confirm it.

Johana saw the opportunity and took it. She pulled her head back and slammed her helm into Emma's. The sudden impact made Emma lose the grip on both Johana's wrist and her sword. Before Emma could have a chance to realize what had happened, she was on the ground with Johana pointing her sword to Emma´s head.

Emma grunted and smirked under her helmet. "You win." She admitted and held out her hand.

"You were good." Johana took the arm by the gauntlet and pulled her up.

"How did you find my repairs?" The crackling voice of the tech-priest asked.

Emma removed her helm before addressing him. She shook her head and let her hair fall down. "The armor is flawless. Every joint feels great and the dents are completely gone." She put the helm under her arm. "But the helm cogitator is still distorting and the vox needs another look."

"It will be done sister." The tech priest gave her a shallow nod.

"Make sure it works this time." Emma pushed the helmet into his jointed arms.

The sisters and the tech-priest parted ways after that. The tech-priest took the helmet in his arms and wondered of to his tent while the sisters left.

"Doesn't it feel good?" Johana asked.

"What?"

"Being back in your armor. Doesn´t it feel good knowing that we will fight our next battle clad in the great armor made in the Emperor´s design?"

Emma folded her hand into a fist before letting the fingers fall outwards. "It does." She stared forward. Ignoring other sisters and tech-priests wandering between the tents. "It feels good." She answered and turned to her sister. "Something has been irking me, Johana."

"What is it?"

Emma´s mouth opened but was quickly shut. "It´s something that might be better discussed in private." She took Johana by the wrist. "Follow me."

The sisters left the camp and Emma lead Johana a little bit further away. Once they were out of sight, Emma let go and turned to her sister.

"Why did you lie?" Emma asked.

"About the ogryn?" Johana gaze shifted away from Emma´s eyes.

"Yes. You told some of our sisters that I was the one who slayed the ogryn on my own. Why did you lie about that?" Emma´s brow shifted slightly downwards.

"I…" Johana´s eyes sank. "When the Canoness punished you for helping me… I thought it would be better if the others believed you managed to defeat the ogryn by yourself."

Emma sighed. "I don´t think it helped anyone. You made yourself a liar and I look like weak for disobeying the Emperor´s will."

"But we still fought by the Canoness side." Johana lifted her head. "You and me both fought alongside the standard bearer to take down the sentinel."

"Some of the sisters will forget and forgive, I doubt few of them even know about the ogryn to begin with. But the Canoness won´t." Emma looked at her sister with arms folded across her chest and a slightly tilted head.

"No, she will not." Johana shook her head in agreement. "What do you think we can do redeem ourselves?"

"You should know. You´ve been in the order longer then I have."

"I´ve never had to redeem myself. I´ve never…"

"There isn´t much we can do now." Emma said before Johana could continue. "With the orders we have received, I don´t think the Canoness is in a good mood."

"No. She probably isn´t."

"Better to just wait for the next battle. If we can be a part in the rescue of the Maid, the Canoness may not, but I believe the Emperor will forgive us both." The left corner of Emma´s mouth climbed slightly. "But until then, don´t lie."

Johana closed her eyes. "Lies are the tools of the heretic and traitors alike." She began. "A lie regardless of how small, is a misstep on the path to darkness." She resided an old lecture she had been taught long ago.

Emma took her sister by the shoulders. "Look at me."

Johana opened her eyes and meet the gaze of Emma´s icy blue eyes.

"Say it again." Emma said.

Johana flinched away at first but her eyes swiftly locked in with Emma´s. She repeated the words and Emma let go of her.

Emma took Johana´s hand by the wrist and put on her own shoulder. Her eyes closed and she drew a slow breath. The blue eyes opened again and stared into Johana´s.

"Lies are the tools of the heretic and traitors alike." Emma said. "A lie regardless of how small, is a misstep on the path to darkness."

Johana nodded when Emma finished reciting the lecture.

"So now neither one of us will tell lies, whether they be big or small." Emma said, her face mostly stiff with only a small twitch near the corner of her eye.

"I swear on it." Johana said, smiling.

"So, do I." Emma´s gaze flinched away.

Johana´s hand reached forward, gently grasping around Emma´s wrist. "Let's go back to the camp."

Emma nodded. "Let´s."

* * *

Anna´s fingers drummed on the table behind. One of her brows where raised.

"You look weak." Anna said. "Are you?"

The palatine steeped forward, through the flaps of the tent. She pulled back her arm and Anna did the same.

Their palms slammed together, their fingers wrapping around each other hands. Their fists stood trembling between the sisters.

"Weak?" Galatea growled. "You´ve spent too much time carrying a banner into battle. You haven´t used our arms for anything but raising the flag."

The fists started slowly moving to the left of Anna. "I´m a talon of the Hawk. I kill my enemies with my sword. You simply blow them up from afar."

Galatea frowned and her hand managed to steadily climb upwards. "Do you know the weight of a tank shell? Do you know the load of a heavy bolter?"

Anna´s mouth twisted as her arm started trembling, veins on her neck started growing and pressing against her skin.

The fists stood still between Anna and Galatea.

Anna gave in. Her arm fell and her hand came lose.

"Alright." Anna said, chuckling. "You win."

Galatea smiled and gave the standard bearer a light slap on her arm. "It´s been long time, my friend."

"Too long I´d say." Anna looked at her red eye. "Who or what managed to come close enough to remove your eye?"

"A stray shelf." Galatea brushed the edge of the red glass with her fingers. "And a rock that burrowed straight through my helmet into my eye."

"A scar that will make the Emperor proud."

"I think the ones who took my eye might feel differently."

"Were they torn to pieces by hails from your tanks?" Anna asked.

"No." Galatea shook her head. "I ordered my sisters to surround them, making sure they had no way of escaping from the pit they were hiding in. Then I grabbed a flamer and filled their hole with liquid promethium."

"Seems I was wrong." Anna poured two cups of wine. "You´ve done two deeds to make the Emperor proud. You´re making me look weak." She offered one cup to her sister.

Galatea gave a small chuckle and accepted the cup. "It won´t take you long to catch up." She took a sip from the wine.

"When we´ve completed our quest, our past deeds will look minor favors by comparison." Anna took a larger chug.

Galatea nodded. "It will. Once the traitors lie dead at our feet, we will bring the Maiden of Astryoa back to the capital. Hailed as heroes of the Emperor."

"But it will be a divided glory." Anna said with a somber tone.

"If it is decreed by the Inquisitor himself, it must be the will of the Emperor." Galatea said. "We will fight alongside the Imperial guard and our sisters. Together we will enact the will of the Emperor. Together we will stand united."

Anna drew a breath. "The hawk flies alone. It strikes alone. It brings its gain home alone. Only rats and pigeons find strength in numbers. The hawk uses its own strength and its own strength alone."

"The wings, the talons and the tail all fight together. The Hawk is made one by us. With the Imperial guard, we will be one again. Stronger and larger than before."

"Fatter and slower to." Anna scoffed as she left the tent.


	13. Chapter 12

The black rose chapter 12

The bright sun gently warmed her face and the yellow light reflected in her golden hair. Emma tilted her head and let the light warm the underside of her neck. She had wandered at least a descent kilometer away from the camp to find this place. It was at the top of a large hill, large enough for her to see the camp when she looked over her shoulder but far enough away for most of the noises to either have faded or be completely muted.

She took of her left glove and let it gently hover over the ground. Just enough to feel the grass rub against her palm. It tickled a little and she plucked a few of the straws of the ground. She put them close to her nose and felt the scent of cut grass fill her nose.

"So that´s what it smells like." Emma said to herself. The smell of gunpowder, oil and blood where so common to her that the scent seemed almost alien to her at first.

 _It´s almost a little sugary._ She thought while letting the little plucked pieces of grass being carried away by the wind. Gently, they twirled and swayed as they ran down the hill.

Emma followed the straws with her gaze until they reached the bottom of the hill and got caught in a bush. Her eyes continued to move forward until she saw what at first seemed like an army coming towards her. It was only at a second glance that she recognized them as her sisters.

They walked in ranks. Their armors black and their robes fiery orange like the other sisters but when looking closer, towards the shoulder pauldrons, jet engines belonging to jump packs peeked above them. In their arms where flamers, their shining muzzles reflecting the bright sunlight.

 _The Wings._ Emma thought. _Now we are only missing the Imperial guard._

She wandered down hill to meet the Sisters of the Wing. She identified their palatine by her ornate armor and the retracted metal claws at her gauntlet. Emma kneeled when in front of her.

"Palatine Sophia." Emma said.

The palatine removed her helmet. She had short, silvery blond hair cut around her head, shallow, blue eyes and a scar reaching from her forehead down to her lower lip.

"What is your name sister?" The tone of Sophia´s voice was somewhat metallic, like the voice of the tech-priest.

"Emma."

"Get up." Sophia gestured her to rise.

Emma did as she was told and meet the palatine´s dark blue, almost purple eyes.

"Where are your sisters?"

"Just beyond that hill." Emma pointed her thump over her shoulder.

"Then why are you here?" Even with the wires digging in and out of Sophia´s throat, distorting most emotions in her voice, Emma could hear Sophia´s tone harden.

"I…" Emma´s lower lip hung still for a moment. "I was trying to find some peace and quiet."

"Peace and quiet?" Sophia replied, her voice growling with irritation. "You said your name was Emma, didn´t you?"

"Yes Palatine." Emma felt her naked hand flexing.

"Emma the Belated." The palatine called her. It was a sobriquet she hadn´t heard for a long time. One that had faded from most of her sisters and one she thought was gone completely.

"Yes." Emma confirmed Sophia´s assumption.

"Then let me teach you something that might have been lost to you. We are at war. Peace and quiet are rare. Even out of war, they are fleeting." Sophia leaned forward. "Appreciate them while you can."

A breath slowly seeped out of Emma´s lungs. "I will."

As Sophia was walking past Emma, she stopped and took her by the shoulder. "Better hurry." She next to Emma´s ear. "The imperial guard are not far behind. And when they arrive, we move on. With or without them."

"For our sacred quest." Emma replied.

"In the name of the Emperor." Sophia walked past Emma.

"Move one!" The palatine ushered the wings.

As the Wings walked forward, the pieces of loose gear, sword sheaths, pistol holsters, grenades and tubes banged against their armors. The collective noise made it sound as if a hoard was on the march. The dust they kicked up hovered above the ground and stung Emma´s eyes once the sisters had walked past her. She coughed and tried waving the brown cloud away from her.

Once she was alone again, Emma looked around back and watched as the wings moved past the hill and out of her sight. She sighed to herself and walked back to the camp.

* * *

Walking between the rows of tents most of the noises where the screeches of the Mechanicum´s tech-priests buzz saws grinding against metal followed by clicks of the metal snapping to metal. This was then followed by clangs of the hammerheads slamming down on plate. The noises where enough to give Emma a headache. The disorganized cacophony made by the Mechanicum brought back thoughts of the battlefield, of her fight with the ogryn. The sound of bolters slamming into her the flank of her armor. She put a hand on the area where the bolts had pounded her. Even through her armored hand, Emma could feel the flat, smooth metal.

But in this orchestra of metal and hammers Emma could hear a noise that did not fit. It was subtle, to the point where she might not have noticed it unless the clang of metal had stopped for just a short moment. She stopped and listened for it again. And there it was. A weak, muted sound. A moan as if someone was struggling.

Emma turned and put a hand to her hear. The moan came again. This time it was little louder but still only noticeable if one was carefully listening for it. Emma turned to the source of the noise. It was a tent, Johana´s tent.

Her body moved out of reflex. The right hand reached down and grasped for her sword before it realized it was clasping for air. It didn´t slow her. Emma rushed around the tent, pushed away the flaps and found Johana alone in the tent. In one swift moment, her dread turned to terror.

Her sister laid in her own bed, covered only a plain robe that was pulled up to her stomach. Her skin was red and glistening with sweat. One hand was right in between her legs, thrusting back and forth. Her eyes where closed and her lip was pinned between her teeth.

Emma stared at her sister. Eyes widening and mouth hanging open.

"Johana…" The name crawled itself out of Emma´s lips.

Her sister's eyes opened and her entire body froze in place. The color drained from her face but the sheen remained.

For a moment, the pair stood there. Staring at each other. Neither of them even daring to draw a breath.

"Emma." Johana crawled out of the bed but stumbled and fell to the floor, her dark hair spilling over her face. "I… I´m not…"

A sip of air passed down Emma´s lips. She felt the muscles in her neck tensing and flexing, trapping any word that might have tried to escape. Pressure built up behind her eyes.

"Emma…" Johana reached out, desperately grasping.

She turned and ran out of the tent.


	14. Chapter 13

The black rose chapter 13

"You called for me." Derik used a still tone, a tone he used to hide any semblance of his intentions or emotions.

"I did." From behind his desk, Alfred stared at the Inquisitor with his murky, grey eyes. His hands where folded together, the fingers dragging his leathery skin on the backs of his hands towards the knuckles. "You sent an order to the Sisters and the Imperial guard forces. That they are to join forces in rescuing the Maid of Astryoa."

"Yes."

" _Why_?" The growl in his voice visibly strained him.

"Because I want the Sisters alive and in shape to fight by the end of this war." Derik let the tone of his voice harden somewhat. "You must have heard about the ambush performed by the heretics."

"I was the first to hear." Alfred´s palm sank to his desk.

"Then you know why I had to issue these orders. I cannot risk the Sisters falling before the Despoiler launches his crusade." Derik folded his arms.

"A crusade you´re not even sure is going to happened." Alfred´s eyes narrowed. "How often do you think the forces of chaos tries to gather enough forces to assault the Imperium?"

It was simple question for Derik to answer but he chose to withhold his hand and wait for what Alfred wanted to say.

"Every year, every month, every day. They are always trying."

Derik couldn´t help but be intrigued by what Alfred said. He possessed knowledge of the Eye of Terror most citizen did not know about. "And how do you know this?"

"Because I have fought at the Cadian gate. I have seen the forces of the dark gods. I know they are not a foe to be taken lightly but they are not a foe that can unite. The moment an assault is launched, they start infighting. Heretical space marines, cultists. They start killing both their enemies and each other to prove themselves in the eyes of their gods. And that is why the Despoiler will fail now like he as every other time he has tried."

"If you have fought on the Cadian gate, you know why the Sisters need to be there. You know what happens to those weak of will when they are exposed to the corruption of chaos."

"I have seen it with my own eyes." Alfred looked away for a moment. "I can see it more vividly then I see most things now."

Derik smiled. "With aided forces of the Imperial guard, this conflict will be ended and the Sisters will follow me to the Cadian gate."

"You speak as if they are already ours." Alfred snapped. "During the ambush, they fought of the heretics. Killed every last one of them, proving their worth and devotion to the Emperor." His brows sank and his upper lip raised. "And you would have them fight alongside the Imperial guard. Men who piss their pants when death approaches, rather than sacrifice themselves for the will of the Emperor. Tell me, Inquisitor of the order hereticus," The Governor's lip started twitching. "Why would they ever want to serve a man who forces them to fight alongside those who are not pure in faith?"

"We can only die once, Governor." Derik put his hands on Alfred´s desk and gazed down into the foggy greys of the Governor's eyes. "The Sisters can either die being slaughtered by heretics while they sleep. Undignified, unworthy deaths of the Adeptus Sororitas. Or they can die fighting alongside the Emperor´s chosen angels of death, killing the servants of the dark gods. I can grant them the later. I can grant the chance of seeing the Astartes with their own eyes. To spill both their own blood and that of our enemies while fighting alongside them. That is why they will fight under my command."

The grey eyes narrowed and the corners of Alfred´s mouth sank. "Soo, you think that will make them follow you."

Derik did not like the expression on Alfred´s face. He knew that whatever answer he gave after that remark, Alfred had a sure way refuting it.

"Yes." Derik said.

"You believe a promise and your word will make them follow you." Even with Alfred´s foggy gaze, Derik could feel the Governor trying to pin him down with his eyes.

"I am an Inquisitor." Derik answered Alfred´s gaze. "If my word, whether it be a threat or promise, could not be taken seriously, I would never be where I am today."

"More words." Alfred said. "Words will not make them follow you."

Derik´s eyes narrowed as well. "Words may be weak and deceptive but they´re still stronger than inaction."

The last word made Alfred´s face flare red. He rose so quickly out of his chair that he almost leaped out of it. "I am a vessel of Emperor!" He shouted so loudly that Derik thought he was going to faint after the first few words. "I am beacon of his light and wisdom! I have lead the Sisters to great victories and made them perform great miracles! That is why they follow my guidance and that is why they will never join you!" Alfred stared at Derik, panting and pulsing red as a string of saliva hung from his lower lip. "The Sisters of the Hawk belong to me and no one else!"

 _You´re stubborn. You´re narrowminded. You´re deluded. You´re-_ Derik stopped himself at the final word. It was word he did not want to use lightly. _You might even be mad. Once, you may have been a strong and worthy leader of the Sisters. You may have lead them to great victories and aided them to the point of them performing miracles. But now, you´re a frail, broken man. And you are wrong. They do not follow you._ Derik gave him a sharp look. _They follow the Emperor._

"If that is true," Derik said with a still tone that subdued most of his anger yet kept it visible just underneath the surface. "why did the Sisters obey my orders?"

"Because they are naive." The tone of Alfred´s voice was like black tar, thick and slow.

Derik snorted. "You insult the Sisters."

The words shattered Alfred´s hardened face. In a flash, his brows sank and his mouth was left hanging.

Derik simply turned and left the room, leaving the Governor in silence.

 _Dammit._ Derik cursed to himself once he was out of the room. _Dammit, dammit, dammit._ He put his gloved hand to his face and rubbed the skin on the nose bridge between his fingers. A grunt went over his lips as he walked through the halls.

 _I could have handled that better._ Derik thought. _But the Sisters must survive._


	15. Chapter 14

The black rose chapter 14

The tent was filled with noise. The palatines and their sister superiors arguing and talking over themselves.

Sophia of the Wings said that they should just leave while they still could. Her sister superior, Melina, sat quietly next to Sophia, playing with an empty bolter shell.

"If we head forward without the Imperial guard we will be marching with blindfolds." Galatea said. "The imperial forces know the land, they know the layout of the fortress."

Galatea´s sister superior, Lilly, nervously drummed the table. "I agree." She said with small voice.

Anna glared at Galatea though she wasn´t sure if her sister noticed her. Galatea´s eyes seemed to more focused on the Canoness, her black eyes hidden underneath the helmet´s blood red visor.

"While we sit here and wait," Sophia began. "The heretics keep the Maiden locked inside their fortress. They could kill her at any moment and we sit here and wait for the Imperial guard to come. We shouldn´t wait, we should act."

"If we don´t wait we could be slaughtered." Galatea replied. "We could end up as a bloody mess on the grounds before the fortress and the Maiden will sit in that fortress until she rots away."

"The Imperial guard will never dare to follow us into battle." Sophia´s crackling voice answered. "The moment the bullets start flying through the air they will not have guts to stay the battlefield unless the commissars make enough examples to make them run the other way. We will better of just throwing them at the wall like wet paper."

"While beautiful roses grow on the ground we soiled our blood with?" Galatea said with a bitter tone. "Alone, we will not survive the battle to come. We need the soldiers that the Imperial guard will provide us with, otherwise this will be the end of the Hawk."

Sophia´s remaining brow sank into a deep frown. "It is better to die a pure death, enacting the will of the Emperor, than to die tainted, alongside soldiers who don´t have the courage to die in battle!" The palatine bellowed.

"Do you think the Emperor will endorse our foolishness?!" Galatea shouted back. "Do you think he will look at us with a smile when we die at the walls of the heretics? Do you think he will feel pride as our bodies pile up outside their walls?"

"Enough!" The Canoness silenced everybody in the tent by slamming her fist into the table, the wood cracking at the impact. Even Anna jumped at the sound.

"These orders did not come from an Imperial general or some governor of a distant sector." The Canoness said. "They come Derik Horst of the order Hereticus, a member of the Emperor´s holy inquisition. You know what this means."

The silence that had been pulled over the tent did not break. No one dared making so much as a noise.

"It means that they cannot be ignored or questioned by any of us. The Imperial guard have been given three days. They have one left. Until then we will not march."

The palatines and the sister superiors sat quiet. Sophia pouted as she stared into the ground. Galatea showed a flash of a smile before she noticed Anna´s gaze. The sisters stared into each other's eyes. Anna´s brown amber locked in with Galatea´s red monocle.

"So, what until then?" Sophia broke the silence with a question. "We just here and roll our thumbs for another day?"

"The Emperor sits silent on the golden throne." The Canoness answered. "But that does not mean he sits idle."

Sophia sighed.

The flaps of the tent spread as an armor-clad sister entered the room.

"Canoness." Anna recognized the voice of the sister. It was Emma under the black ceremite helm.

"What is it?"

"Forgive my interruption." Emma bowed. "But it's about the Imperial guard."

"What about them?" Anna could hear the tone of the Canoness voice betray a sense of urgency, an eagerness almost.

"They have arrived."

The south of the camp had become completely surrounded. Tanks, walkers and troops spread around the sister's tents like a tide of green on a shore, slowly swallowing a stone of white.

The Canoness stood at the front, facing the troops of the Imperial guard, her arms folded across her chest and her sword hanging at her side. Thought the soldiers outnumbered the sisters by ten to one, few of the Imperial guard dared look at her, let alone walking anywhere near any of the sisters.

The Canoness started drumming her fingers on her arms as she waited.

And she didn´t have to wait long. A man dressed in a long coat stepped forward from the ranks. He was bald with only a think dash of white hair on the edges of his temple and had a stiff, hardened face with wrinkles carved into his cheeks. A crow sat perched on his shoulder, flexing and spreading its jet-black wings. His eyes dark brown pits that meet the Canoness red visors and stared right through them.

In spite of his stature and the scars on his scalp, the Canoness first instinct was to sneer at him behind her helmet.

 _Coward._ The Canoness thought. _Hiding behind your men._

The General walked up to the Canoness. One hand was grasping the grip of his sabre. The other he offered to the Canoness.

The Canoness glanced down at the hand. She took it and gave the him a handshake. "Canoness of the Sisters of the Hawk."

"Colonel Garius Lup of the first division." He gave the Canoness a firm shake before letting go. "We received orders to join you."

"I know."

" _Know._ " The crow cawed. " _Know._ "

The Canoness looked up at the bird. "Does that animal always do that?"

The Colonel looked over at the crow and petted it with his finger. "Sometimes." He replied with a dry, raspy tone.

The Canoness grunted.

Garius´s eyes looked back into the Canoness´ glowing, crimson slits. He petted the bird on his shoulder. "So, which one of us gets to follow the other?"

"What are you talking about?"

"Are you going to follow me to meet my commanders or am I going to follow you to meet your palatines?" Garius shrugged his shoulders, his hand resting on the saber.

The crow cawed, its black wings flapping. " _Commander_ :"

"Leave your weapon." The Canoness said, her fingers wrapping around the hilt of her sword. "And the crow."

The Colonel undid his belt and handed it over to the nearest soldier. He looked over at the bird and stroked the back of its head with his fingers. "The crow stays." He said, staring at the Canoness.

The fingers around her sword shifted. She stepped forward until she was standing in front of the Colonel. "Fine."

"We should have left." Sophia said.

"Then you should have marched on without us." Galatea replied. "Doesn´t matter much now, does it?"

 _Sarcasm._ Anna thought. _The tool people use to make themselves feel and look clever. Not something that fits her._ She looked over at Galatea.

Sophia´s sister superior, Melina, raised her voice. "It's always so damnably easy to look back on the past and tell yourself that things would have been different if you would have known." She snorted and pushed bolter shell out on the table. The cylinder rolled in circle. "And it´s damnably hard to make use of the mistakes you made." She caught the bolter shell as it was about to fall of the table. "I say we do what's hard."

Both Sophia and Anna nodded silently in agreement. Galatea put her arm on table and tapped her fingers. She was about to say something when the flaps of the tent parted and the Canoness walked back in.

And after her, came the Colonel.

Both Galatea and her sister superior turned when he entered. Sophia and Melina simply glared at him. Anna´s brows simply jumped to the middle of her forehead and her hand flattened across the table.

The crow on the Colonel shoulder cawed and flapped its wings.

"Sisters of Hawk." The Colonel said, raising his voice slightly. "I am Garius Lup, Colonel of the first division of the planetary defense forces." He looked over at the sister furthest away from him.

"Sophia, Palatine of the Wings."

He looked over at the next sister and Galatea introduced herself along with her sister superior. And after that he looked over at Anna.

Her brows furrowed as when the Colonel looked at her. She rose from her chair and looked back at him with folded arms.

"Anna." She began. "Standard Bearer of the Talons."

The Colonel looked back her. His eyes didn´t flinch and look away as Anna had expected, rather they were unflinching and unmoving. The black pits betraying little emotion. His mouth told a different story. The corner of his mouth shifted and Anna could clearly hear him brooding with closed lips. He offered Anna his hand.

Anna took it.

"Well met sister." Even through his glove, the Colonel´s hand felt stony and rough against Anna´s. He let go and simply wandered past the sister. "Am I right to assume that this council for the coming battle? To retrieve and rescue the Maiden of Astroya?"

"No." The Canoness said as she walked past him, back to her chair. "Some of my palatines made it clear that they would rather ignore the order of the Inquisitor and march forward without your forces."

"And what´s your opinion?" Garuis alked forward to the table. He glanced quickly downwards at the crack before looking back at the Canoness.

"The Inquisitor's orders are not to be ignored or questioned." The Canoness answered, her thumb rolling around her index finger.

"If that is your conclusion, then we should move on to planning the battle that's coming."

The Canoness threw a quick glance over at the palatines, their sister superiors and her own standard bearer. They all nodded in response.

"Good." Garius reached into his pocket and placed a holoprojector on the table. The little dish sparked to life and displayed a blue, crackling projection of a fortress grown out of a mountain. The display was showing a stronghold growing out crevasse in mountain. At the deepest point of the crevasse, was a spear like tower and a massive wall in front of it. The field in front of the first wall was an open field, only cuts of trenches and fields of barbed wire broke up the barren wasteland. "This is the fortress we are going to assault. This is the fortress where the Maiden of Astroya is being kept."


	16. Chapter 15

The black rose chapter 15

Nervously, Johana paced back and forth. Her armored boots had flattened all the branches, twigs and grass in her path, making a flat path on the hill. Inside her ribcage, her heart raced. Like she was running for her life. The breaths that passed her lips where quick and small, only little puffs of air rushing in and out of her mouth.

Why had the Canoness placed on her patrol on the border between the Imperial guard and the Sister? Was this some kind of cruel joke on her part? So that everyone could see her be humiliated as the Canoness stripped her of rank and condemned her as a heretic?

 _Please._ Johana prayed to herself. _God-Emperor of mankind. I wish only to serve you in our ambition to abolish the traitors and xenos alike from your imperium. Don´t condemn me._ The colored beads rolled between her fingers. _Please don´t condemn me._

"Johana."

She turned and found her sister standing just a few meters in front her alone, her blond hair falling down her black armor in golden rivers. She was alone, no one had come with her.

"Emma."

"Hi." Her sister replied. The tone of her voice was still but her face while looking unmoving initially was filled with her little sings. Her lips struggled to form a line and her brows made constant little adjustments. The blue eyes looked frozen like ice, ready to crack at any moment.

"Emma, I-" Johana was silenced by her sister raising a hand.

"I can´t forget what I saw." Emma said, her voice struggling. "I can´t block it out of my mind or act like it was something else."

Her heart started pounding like a hammer. From the center of her chest to the tips of her fingers, every beat sent chills across Johana´s body. Air stopped coming down her throat. The breath simply stopped halfway down her neck. Every muscle in her body refused to move. She simply stood there, completely still. Thoughts rushed through her head. Could she run away? Should she try and escape her sisters by running through the guardsmen's camp?

 _No. There is no chance for me escape._

"But," Emma said and Johana snapped, like the string on bow had suddenly been cut. "you have our secrets." The blue eyes grew warmer. "I have mine."

"W… what do you mean?" Johana asked.

"I will not tell anyone what I saw." Emma said. "Secrets are not meant to be spilled. That´s why they are secrets."

The air leaked out of her. Johana stumbled and almost feel to the ground but managed stop herself by bracing against her leg. A small chuckle jumped out of her. Then it sprung into an almost full laughter. Johana lifted her head and looked at her sister with smile.

"Thank you." Johana said, her voice trembling with emotion. "Thank you."

Emma´s lips where twisted. Shifting between a smile and a frown. "Don´t let me see you like that again."

"I will." Johana promised.

Emma looked away and stared across the camp of the Imperial guard with puzzling eyes. The cold returned to her blue eyes. 

"Why do you think he did it?" Emma asked, staring across a green sea with islands of crackling fire.

"Who?" Johana asked, still leaning.

"Why do you think the Inquisitor decided that we need to fight alongside the Imperial guard?"

"I don´t know." Johana said with a sigh passing her lips. "It´s difficult to know or understand the thoughts of someone halfway across the world who I´ve never seen."

"You´re right." Emma stared back at her sister. "But don´t you want to know?"

"I suppose." Johana shrugged. "It probably has something to do with traitors' assault on our camp."

"Despite us fighting them off." Emma rebutted, the tone of her voice hardened. "We killed them to every last man."

"We did. But not without a loss." Johana remarked.

"You think that´s what caused him to give these orders?"

"The Inquisitor is an agent of the Emperor´s will." Johana said. "Maybe he has some kind plan for us. A higher purpose for which every sister is a vital piece."

"You think so?" One of Emma´s eyes narrowed.

"Hard to tell." Johana sat down on the ground and folded her legs up to her chest. "Either way, it's not the place for the pawn to question the player. These soldiers of the Imperium will fight and bleed at our side."

"It will be a great honor for them." Emma walked up next to her sister.

"For them yes. Not sure what it means for us."

"What do you mean?" Emma looked down at Johana.

"I heard some of the sisters say that it's downright heresy for a guardsman of the Imperium to even look at a sister of battle. That if anyone of the soldiers so much as dare go near them they will make them spit their teeth out. Others say it´s a blessing by the Emperor. That these troops will have the honor dying alongside the Emperor´s chosen daughters."

"And what do you think?" Emma looked over the camp of the Imperial guard.

"Like I said, I´m uncertain."

"Either way, you and I both have our own honors to redeem." Emma said.

"It won´t be long. In just a few days we will be standing before the fortress where the heretics are keeping the Maiden of Astroya." Johana looked up at her sister. "Just think, you and I will be marching out through the broken castle with the Maiden in our hands. By her blessing and our victory, our shame will be washed away." She found herself to smile inspite of a fantasy she knew to be naïve, if not downright childish.

"You really believe it?" Without Johana noticing at first, corner of Emma´s mouth started rising.

"I swore to you and you swore to me that we would not lie. Just think when we march out with the Maiden, every sister and soldier on the field will honor us as heroes. They will roar in triumph as we approach."

The description Johana gave made Emma snort and even giggle a little. "I hope so."


	17. Chapter 16 part 1

The black rose chapter 16 part 1

The sudden flash burned through her lenses. Emma barely had time to react before the force of the explosion tossed her backwards and sent her to the ground with hard thud. The armor took the worst of it, shrapnel glanced of the ceramite and the tendrils running just above her skin stopped the limbs from bending out of shape. The audio filters and visors had no chance to react. Even with her eyes closed the only things she could see was a blinding white light and her ears felt like needles where pushing into her ears.

Emma bit down until the muscles in her jaw ached and rolled over to her stomach. The sword hand pushed its knuckles down into the dirt and the free hand pressed its palm. The light and the noise started to fade and Emma heaved herself up. It only took her a glance to tell where she should go.

The wall of the fortress was a towering construction. Whether it was construction by traitors or true believers, Emma couldn´t help but be impressed by the size of it. More than thirty meters of black steel. Lascanons hidden in armored towers shot red beams, drawing scorched marks across the ground and piercing through the hull of any tank that came into range. Rows of bolter turrets spat bursts of bright yellow rods. When Emma used her armor´s cogitator to zoom in, she could see the cause of the explosion. A mortar crew on the top of the wall, and they were loading up another shell.

Emma put a free hand to her side to make sure that the pouch was still there and ran. She leaped into the trench and found what she had been sent there for.

"Guardsman!" Emma shouted to first man she saw.

He was a head shorter then Emma. Most of his face was hidden, cowered by his helmet and what Emma could see where sweaty and dirty.

"Sister." He performed a swift, stiff salute. "Sergeant Karb."

"Emma. Why have you not responded to commands?" She growled through the armor´s grill.

"The vox ´s busted." He pointed past himself, further down the trench, to a bunker where the roof had collapsed. "A shell landed right on top of it, the vox-caster and three of my men were taken out with it. We´ve got a spare but it broke when it was hit by shrapnel from the damn mortar."

"We suspected as much." Emma sheathed her sword and reached down to the pouch. "Here." She held forth a black puck, large enough to cover her entire hand. "It's a vox repair kit."

"Thank you, sister." He performed another quick salute before running past Emma to the rest of his men.

Emma followed him to another bunker. The walls where blackened with soot and stained with dried blood. Inside where another four soldiers.

"Lads!" The sergeant shouted. His men turned when they heard him but when the noticed Emma standing behind him, they stiffened. One jumped to perform a salute.

"Sergeant. Sister." The men greeted.

"Which one of you have a the spare vox-caster and which one of you know how to fix it?" Karb barked the words.

"I do sir." A young private said. "But I can´t fix it without the spare parts."

"The Emperor has brought a blessing." The sergeant held forth the puck Emma had given him. "Now get to work fixing it."

"Yes, sir." He took the puck and unscrewed the lid. "Thank you, sister." He gave Emma a quick nod.

"Stop gawking at her and get to work fixing the bloody vox. Until then, private Ferik, keep your brains inside your skulls and don´t drop the smoke markers again or I´ll have you run between the trenches." He growled the orders at him and the young man sprinted back to piece of shattered tech.

"What's the status on the other squads?" Emma asked as another mortar shell crashed into the ground outside. A short shower of rocks rained down on the bunker roof.

"Last I checked," The sergeant threw the magazine out of his lasgun. "There were four more ten-man teams in this trench." He put a fresh magazine in and gave it a hard smack to push it into the weapon. "Haven´t heard a word from them since we lost the vox-caster."

"Their last known positions?" Emma asked, checking her boltgun.

"Two east from us." Karb pointed to his left as he looked up the bunker´s window. "Other two west."

"Once the vox is fixed, report your position, reconnaissance with the squads to the west and follow the squadron sergeant."

"Right." Karb nodded.

"I´ll head east and look for the other two."

"Alright lads make way." Karb waved for his soldiers to move to the side in the narrow bunker´s hallway.

The soldiers promptly did as they were told and Emma pressed herself past them. As she was standing in the exit, Emma could feel some of the soldier's eyes lingering on her.

A tower was spitting spurts of bullets in the general area in front of her.

 _There is no chance that the spotters could see me from up there._ Emma thought as she peeked out through the bunker. _They must be shooting towards anything that moves._ She snorted under her helm. _Hoping to get lucky._

She glanced away from the wall, to the other side of the battlefield. Peeking over the edge of the hill behind the second front of guardsmen and sisters, where the barrels of Basilisk tanks. Covered by the mound of dirt, the tanks fired blindly towards the fortress, their shells mostly crashing into the wall.

 _They need to aim higher._ Emma glared back up at the turret and decided to make her move. She charged forward and heard the bullets punching into the dirt on both side of the trench. None of them seemed to be aimed at her, just more sprays that kept the rest of the forces pinned.

It only took Emma half a minute before she reached the next bunker.

"Guardsmen?" Emma asked once she found none inside.

At first any potential answer was drowned out by the thunderous clang of a tank shell crashing into one of the towers. Emma looked out and saw an explosion of fire and metal at the top of one of the towers. Chunks of blackened metal came falling into the ground and sent splashes of dirt and rocks. A large piece hit the bunkers roof and made the entire thing tremble at the impact.

Emma felt herself flinching at the clang that jumped between the bunker´s walls.

"Aaaaaahhhhhhh!"

The scream stayed inside the bunker well past the noise of the metal hitting the roof. Emma looked around her and found a guardsman in the ground next to her boots. He was curled up and shacking as he put both his hands to his ears.

Emma reached down and grabbed him by the arm. He resisted standing up at first but she gave him a hard yank and he was forced to get up.

"Where is the rest of your squad?"

He just stared at her with dot like eyes and a pale, white face.

"Soldier!" Emma roared into his face. "Where is your squad?"

"D- dead." He said, stuttering with his jaw trembling. "B- blown up."

"By the mortars?"

He shook his head. "T- tanks."

Emma let go of the guardsman and walked up to the bunker´s left window. To the west, she found the tanks. The fortress gate, a ten meter high thing made out of solid iron was surrounded by a squadron of made of Leman Russ Battle tanks, Hellhound tanks and Griffon tanks. All of them dug in behind a thick wall of mud for protection. The Leman Russ tanks where armed with demolisher canons and the Hellhounds' inferno canons poured rivers of fire across the field. Turning the ground into a wasteland of black ash and orange flames.

Emma turned back to the guardsman. "And the other squad?"

"Dead." He shook and shivered like he was freezing.

"Follow me." Emma said but the soldier stayed put. Under her helm, Emma frowned. She took him by the shoulder and dragged him over to the bunker entrance.

"Do you want to die in this bunker?" Emma pushed him to the bunker´s wall.

"No." He replied with frail voice.

"Then run to the other bunker and don´t stop." Emma said. "You got it?"

"I- I got it."

"Go!" Emma pushed him out so hard that the guardsman almost tripped over at first. He quickly regained his footing and ran along the trench with Emma just behind him.

Halfway to across, another mortar shell landed on the side of the trench, in front of the guardsman.

At first, Emma was afraid that the wall would collapse like it did on Johana but the only thing that came was another shower of dirt and gravel. The guardsman was flung to the side of the trench and hit the ground on his back.

Emma ran up to pull him back to his feet.

"Get-" His head disappeared in an explosion of blood and brains. Only a bleeding stump remained where his had been.

"Dammit." Emma dropped him and kept running. She reached the bunker and found Ferik with his back turned to her. He was alone, hunched over a green circuit card and a bundle of wires while struggling to hold an antenna above his head.

"What´s the status on the other squads?" Emma asked.

Ferik glanced over his shoulder before returning to the circuit card. "I don´t know. The sergeant left me alone to fix the vox while he and the rest went to find the others."

"And the vox? Is it fixed yet?" Emma glanced back to the west, keeping an eye at the gate and the tanks in front of it.

"Still broken." Ferik wiped some sweat of his forehead with the back of his hand. "But…" He leaned forward, staring at the little black dots and boxes on the circuit board. "Sister, could you hold this?" Ferik held the antenna towards Emma.

She took it and the guardsman dipped forward, like he was trying to dive into the bundle of black rubber and sparkling electrics. He took a flashlight from his back pocket, turned it on and put it in his mouth as he started pulling at the circuitry with his pliers. After some twisting with his wrist, he turned the winch to the point of it buzzing. He reached over to his headset and put one of the headphones to his ears.

"I fixed it." Ferik raised his voice in triumph.

"Is it receiving?" Emma asked.

"Receiving and hopefully transmitting." He put the headset over his head and put the micro-bead to his mouth. Before he said anything, he turned to Emma. "The other squads are dead right?"

"Taken out by tanks guarding the fortress gate."

"What kind and how many?" He gave the winch another turn.

"Leman Russ Battle Tanks, Hellhounds and Griffons. I saw six in total but there are definitely more."

"Squad sergeant." Ferik turned to the radio. "This is the 54th squad. We are in position…" He fumbled with a map as he pulled it out of his pocket and folded it out. "seven-four. The Sister of the Hawk as arrived. Only private number five-six-zero-seven-eight is present. The rest of the squad is out to reconnaissance with squads 53 and 51. Status of squad 56 and 60 are KIA. Taken out by tanks guarding the fortress gate. Please respond." He turned to Emma and pushed the micro-bead away. "The frequency is five-seven-eight."

"Thanks." Emma adjusted her own vox to receive the frequency.

" _Roger that 54_ _th_ _._ " A voice responded via the radio. There was some interference due to reception but the words could still be heard. " _Our orders are to advance along to position five-four and advance on the fortress gate. Over._ "

"Squad sergeant." Ferik said. "The gate is guarded by heavy armor. Requesting heavy support. Over."

" _What is the status on the hostile armor? Over._ "

"At least six tanks positioned in a semi-circle in front of the gate. The tanks consist of Hellhounds and Leman Russ Battle Tanks. Once again, we require heavy support if we are too assault the fortress gate. Over."

" _Roger that. Your request is granted. Sisters from the Tail with the 34_ _th_ _squad are approaching. Over and out._ " The conversation was ended with crackling noise.

Ferik threw Emma a concerned smile. "We just have to hold out until they arrive." He laughed nervously as the turret fire started raining down on the bunker. Splashed of dirt flew in threw the window.

 _He´s afraid._ Emma noted his hand shaking. _But he´s not wrong. We can´t take the gate on our own._


	18. Chapter 16 part 2

The black rose chapter 16 part 2

"Orders received." Galatea voxed. The helm´s cogitator flashed to life and displayed a map of the battlefield.

There were three trenches across the battlefield before the wall. The Talons had pushed through the eastern front and the center. Now they were pinned behind the second trench on the east. The Wings where still pressing the western front. When progressing, the towers and the turrets where going to be problematic but Galatea had another concern. The gaps over the trenches were narrow. But where they to narrow enough for the Rhino to get across?

"What are our orders?" A sergeant asked behind her.

"Provide heavy support for the 54th and take out a squadron of tanks positioned in front of the fortress gate." Galatea answered without looking behind her. She just pushed a set of levers in front of her and the Rhino growled to life.

The sergeant turned and banged his metal arm against the hull of the Rhino. "Guardsmen!" He shouted. "Get ready for a bumpy ride. We´re going to blow up some tanks. Now what do you say to that?"

The twenty guardsmen roared back in response. Even with her helmet, Galatea could fell her ears shrivel at the noise. The zeal of the guardsmen was enough to make her chuckle slightly. Few of the other sisters had welcomed the idea of fighting alongside the Imperial guard. To hear these men be so eager to fight for the Emperor made Galatea proud of her support of them.

Galatea initiated a vox transmission to her other tank units. "Rhino squad two, move to position four-two and disable the towers. Rhino squad four, follow my lead." The cogitators in her helmet pulled up the map of the battlefield. "Baneblade One move to position two-four, take cover behind the hill and remain stationary until further orders."

The orders were received by every unit. Galatea closed the map and pushed the Rhino´s gas lever forward. The tank started to climb upwards a steep hill. The tread´s teeth dug into the mud and soon it was at the top of the hill.

The moment the nose of the Rhino peeked over the hill, the hull of the Rhino started clanging at the bullets bashing into its armor. Ignoring the noise, Galatea pushed forward until the tank managed to climb over the edge. It tipped forward and swung into the ground with a hard punch. The inside of Rhino echoed like a church bell at the impact. Two other Rhinos where at her flank, both armed with heavy bolters and lascannons.

Galatea pulled the gas back and fell into position with her sister Rhino´s. Together all three tanks started firing their heavy bolters, spraying shells the size of fists.As their bolters roared, Galatea pushed the gas lever on her Rhino.

As Galatea pushed the gas lever forward, she muttered a little prayer to herself and the Rhino´s engine roared like an old beast. They reached the first trench and the Rhino started reach over the edge. It was halfway across when a shell punched into its side and the whole thing started tilting. Galatea´s heart stopped and the muscles in her throat tensed. Out of instinct, she shifted to reverse but it was too late. The Rhino was already crashing down, into the trench. Had she not been strapped in, she would have been thrown into the roof.

With her heart racing, Galatea activated her helmet's cogitator, trying to stop her sister Rhinos. She heard the vox contacting them.

"Fall-" Was all she had time to say before the signal was cut off. Galatea undid her straps and turned off the tank´s engine. She rushed out of her seat but only managed to take one step before the Rhino was shaken by the impact of another shell. The rattle was almost enough to knock Galatea of her feet.

"Sergeant!" Galatea searched rapidly.

"He´s dead." One of the guardsmen pointed towards the corner of the Rhino.

Galatea looked to where the soldier pointed and found the sergeant. He was lying still, blood running from his helmet in crimson rivers.

 _Emperor, watch over his soul._ Galatea punched a button and the back of Rhino started slowly opening with a groan.

"Soldiers!" Galatea said through her vox grill as she took a missile launcher from its maglock on the wall and locked it to her armor´s back pack. "Get ready to move out!" She took a grenade from her belt. "Once we´re out, follow my lead." The hull was struck again by a third shell and this time Galatea had to brace herself to not trip.

All of the soldiers started releasing their straps and got up from their seats. Galatea hurried past them, to the Rhino´s opening.

"Ready?"

"Yes, sister!" The soldiers roared back in response.

"Move! Move! Move!" She shouted as she sprinted from the tank´s rear and jumped into the trench. "Rhino squads two and four." Galatea called out over the vox. "My Rhino is trapped in trench one. Under heavy fire from the heretic's artillery. Proceed to positions two-five and two-three respectively and provide suppressive fire against the heretic´s artillery."

" _Roger that._ " Both squads replied. Galatea was about to ask for her sister Rhinos when she saw their smoking wreckages just a few dozen meters away.

Galatea glanced behind to get a quick headcount on the soldiers that she had with her. _Sixteen._ She counted. _Sixteen guardsmen and one sister._ Looking behind her, Galatea used her mechanical eye look across the battlefield. By the concentration of fire being laid down on the trench right in front of the wall, the western flank had almost completely fallen. On the eastern flank, her sisters where struggling to break through the front formed by the three heavy bolters placed inside bunkers on the second trench. Leaping forward on jump packs, the Wings of the Hawk where being plucked. Galatea and the sixteen guardsmen where in the middle, the fortress gate a few hundred meters in front of them. An ashen wasteland being watched over by at least three Leman Russ Battle Tanks, their fronts covered by a wall of dirt. The beams from the lascanons shoot from towers on top of the wall. She zoomed in to get an estimation of the distance.

 _Four hundred meters to the tanks._ Her cogitator displayed. _The towers are fifty meters above the ground._ _One tower on down on the western wall. Three left in total._ _The lock-on range of the missile launcher is one hundred meters._ The distance between each trench was about one hundred meters. _We have to get up close for this._

"I want ten men heading east." She turned back to the guardsmen. "Your orders are to move across to the second trench and flank the heavy bolters holding up in the bunkers. Do not leave the trench until my signal." _Sophia can say what she wants of it._ "The rest of you, follow me."

"Yes, sister." The guardsmen replied before ten of them split apart and headed west.

As Galatea turned to face the remaining guardsmen, the beam of a lascanon pierced the Rhino´s hull. The searing red spear cutting through the metal like a power sword cutting through flesh. Galatea cursed the heretics but she also cursed herself.

 _I lost my tanks and left my sister without support. I will have to make sure it was not in wain._

"Command." Galatea reported. "We cannot provide heavy support for the 54th. The heretics have taken out three of our Rhinos, tank squads two and four are currently strafing out of range. We will procced on foot and take out the heretic's lascannons on the western side of the wall but our Rhinos may have trouble getting over the trenches."

" _Roger that._ " The command center replied.

"On my mark." She called out through the helmet´s grill and her vox. Her hand reached down to her belt for a smoke grenade. "Get set." She pulled the pin, tossed it over the edge and a ball of smoke bloomed between the trenches. "Move!" She pulled herself over the edge and the soldiers followed her, shouting war cries in the name of the Emperor.

 _He does not care for words._ Galatea thought as she entered the still growing smoke cloud. _Only actions and deeds._

Once she passed through the smoke cloud, the next trench was only a short steps away. Galatea just leaped across it and the guardsmen followed her.

About halfway across to the third trench, Galatea saw the muzzle of one of the Leman Russ Tanks slowly turning, aiming for her.

"Scatter!" She screamed, the vox amplifying the noise. " _Scatter_!"

But it was too late. The tanks muzzle spat and the ground exploded behind her. Though the shell missed Galatea, the force of it tossed her forward. The sky shifted from the bright sky and the blacked ground. When she hit the ground, Galatea just rolled forward like a limbless ragdoll. She didn´t stop rolling until she was at the edge of the third trench.

Her left arm screamed with pain. The elbow was bent out of angle and two of her fingers where folded to the point of almost touching the back of her hand.

She flexed the other arm. _The right is not aching_. She threw her right arm across the edge of the trench and pulled herself forward, tipping herself into the trench. She fell awkwardly into the trench, landing clumsily on her side but the armor absorbed some of the impact.

Gasping with pain, Galatea climbed to her feet and searched her surroundings. Finding neither ally or foe to any side, she turned and looked out of the trench. The guardsmen she had left the tank with where gone. Only broken, bloodstained bits of broken armor remained along with limps torn clean of their bodies.

Using her mechanical eye, Galatea scanned the eastern flank and noticed that the heavy bolters had gone silent. The Wings where ascending on them, leaping across the battlefield as trails of white flames followed them, scorching the ground that the flames licked.

Galatea couldn´t help but fell some pride in what she saw but it was short lived. She ducked back down in the trench and reached over her shoulder. She found the cylinder and yanked forward. The weapon landed standing in front of her and Galatea leaned on it. Groaning, she threw the missile launcher over her shoulder. With her hand awkwardly shifting along the cylinder, searching for the weapon´s trigger. Once the fingers found the handle, they snapped around it. Her index finger hovering above the trigger. With a grunt, she walked up to the edge of the trench and placed her broken arm on it for support. The cogitator inside the missile launcher sparked to life, red reticules shifted and moved until they locked onto the tower. With one eye closed and the other showing everything in red through a crackling sight, Galatea couldn´t make much out of the tower or anything next to it. It didn´t matter. The moment the reticules locked on, Galatea squeezed the trigger and felt a kick to her shoulder as the rocket leaped from the cylinder.

She felt herself tilting backwards and the broken arm bit with pain. Before she realized it, Galatea was falling back into the trench. When she hit the ground, her arm and hand screamed with pain. As if frozen needles where pushing in and out of the bones. She coiled together and bit down on her lip, the taste of blood soon followed. She looked up and saw a guardsman standing on the top of the trench. He was aiming his lasgun down at her.

Out of reflex, Galatea quickly rolled to her side and as her back was facing the heretic, she planted a foot into the ground and leaped back to her feet. Her back slamming into the trench wall. She looked up to find the guardsman but he was already down in the trench with her, standing less than a meter away from her.

Galatea took a step forward with her left foot and raised the right, aiming to ram her heel into his stomach.

But the he was quick, quicker than Galatea had expected. He managed to side-step to avoid her kick and pinned her leg between his arm and torso. And now Galatea had no chance to get of the away. The heretic raised his lasgun and started shooting at her point-blank range. It would take a lot of shots from one of these simple weapons to penetrate power armor, but he wasn´t shooting at her armor. He shot at her helmet.

The cogitator flashed before her eyes. The reticules and data streams distorted, her vision became mixture of flashing feeds and utter blackness.

Then there was a bang. Not loud enough to be the sound of a tank shell. It was smaller. And after the that things went relatively quiet. She could still her the sound of the turrets and lascanons in the distance but the screeching of a lasgun shooting her helmet had disappeared.

"Palatine?" A voice came crackling through helmet´s feed.

"Who´s there?" Galatea grasped forward and felt a hand grasping her by the gauntlet.

"Emma of the Talons."

"I can´t see." Galatea reached over her head to remove the helmet lock.


	19. Chapter 16 part 3

The black rose chapter 16 part 3

The red monocle´s lenses turned back and forth while looking at her.

"You said your name was Emma?" The palatine asked.

"Yes." Emma pulled her superior to her feet. There was no point in asking if she was harmed. The left arm was plain to see.

"Palatine Galatea."

"Where´s the rest of you?" Emma asked.

The palatine blinked hard a few times. "Behind the third trench, in reserves."

"Why?" The words violently leaped out of her and Emma regretted it the moment after.

"The lascanons on the wall." Sophia said, seemingly unbothered by the question. "If we don´t take them out, our armor won´t have a chance to get into range." Panting, Galatea turned and looked up at the wall. "By the Emperor." She cursed.

"What is it?"

"The tower is still standing." Galatea pointed towards the western part of the wall, towards the only tower reaming on that side of the gate.

Under her helmet, Emma gritted her teeth. "Okay. Are there any rockets left in the missile launcher?" She gestured to the cylinder.

"One." Galatea tried using her arm at first but quickly stopped and turned to present her back to Emma instead.

Emma lifted the rocket of Galatea and pushed it down the cylinder. She put the cylinder on her shoulder and adjusted so the targeting reticule could lock in on the tower. A shallow breath passed her lips and she squeezed the trigger. The weapon gave her a kick and the missile leaped out of it.

A few seconds later, it crashed into the top of the tower, exploding on impact. The red beams stopped and the top of the tower started tilting before timbering forward. It fell along the wall, the point of the tower scraping against the wall´s metal hide before hitting the ground, collapsing under its own weight.

"The tower is down." She turned to Galatea.

"Good work." Galatea gave an approving nod. "Contact HQ."

"HQ." Emma voxed. "This is Emma of the Talons. The lascanons on the western side of the wall are down, proceed with heavy support. Over."

" _Negative Emma._ " HQ replied. " _The trenches on the western front are too wide. The Rhinos can´t cross them."_

"Dammit." Emma cursed to herself. "Roger that." She turned back to Galatea. "The Rhinos can´t get across the trenches. We have to destroy the gate some other way."

For a moment, the color drained from Galatea´s face but it quickly returned. "Alright."

Emma looked to the eastern front, where she saw the Wings of the Hawk leaping forward by the roars of jet engines. Thoughts started rushing through Emma´s head. She turned to Galatea. "I have an idea. Follow me."

"Alright." Emma offered to have Sophia lean on her support but she just brushed Emma of. "I broke an arm. Not a leg."

The pair started jogging along the trench. Emma jogging and Galatea clutching her left arm.

It wasn´t long before they reached the first bunker. Before they could even see it, they heard the barks of bolters. Emma readied her boltgun and her sword.

"Wait." Galatea took Emma by the arm. "Use this." The palatine took a grenade from her belt.

Emma put her weapons back and took the grenade. "Thank you." She ran up ahead of Galatea, put her back to the bunker entrance. She pulled the pin and raised two fingers to let the lever jump away. She planned to wait, so they would have no chance to avoid the impact, but instead she tossed the grenade into the bunker.

The force like a weak puff compared to the impact of the mortar shell. But the noise bounced and leaped between the bunkers walls. It rushed out like a mad scream. Emma drew her sword. She ran into the bunker, expecting at least one of the traitors to have survived it. But there were only mangled bodies and torn limbs splattered across the bunkers grey walls. Something wet smacked onto her shoulder and when Emma looked up she saw a red stain with shattered intestines slowly dripping from the roof.

 _Don´t waste time._ Emma pushed her sword back into its scabbard and ran back to Galatea. "There´s one more bunker holding the Wings back."

Galatea reached for her belt and unbuckled it. She was about to hand it over when the roars of jet engines passed above them. The roars were followed by a thunderous crash as the sisters of the wings landed.

"Galatea." A sister said from the top of the trench before she jumped down.

Emma recognized her almost immediately. Despite her face being covered by a helmet, she recognized the ornaments on her armor and the claws on her gauntlet, though now they were drawn and stained with blood. 

"Palatine Sophia." Emma nodded.

"You send those guardsmen to aid us." Sophia said, ignoring Emma.

"I did." Galatea rose to stand upright met Sophia´s glowing visors.

The two palatines stared at each other for a moment.

"Why are you here?" Sophia asked.

"We took out the heretics in the bunkers." Galatea responded.

"And together we can destroy the tanks blocking the fortress gate." Emma butted in.

"How?" Sophia turned to Emma.

"With our jumpacks and the guardsmen's smoke markers."

Sophia´s head tilted slightly. "What are you planning?"

"The Rhinos can´t processed because of the trenches and the Basilisks are firing blindly at the wall. If we could throw smoke markers into and around the heretic´s tank front, the Basilisks would have a clear target."

"And that´s where the Imperial guard come in?" Sophia noted.

"Yes." Emma said, noting that Sophia´s scoffed at mention of them. "The 54th are not far from the gate. If the Wings leap into the tanks squadron, the guardsmen can run up and toss smoke markers around the tanks."

Sophia looked past the sisters. She looked at the Sisters of the Wings, leaping across the fields between the trenches in wide arches.

"We´ll do it." Sophia said.

Emma smiled under her helm and started running back to the 54th.

It took her few solid minutes to get back. Even without pausing, Emma could fell herself being slowed down by the mud at the bottom of the trench. It had grown thick, to the point that her boots where swallowed by the brown sludge each time she took her steep. By the time she got back 54th, her fiery orange robes where splattered dirt brown.

"Sister." Karb was the first to notice her. He quickly performed his crude salute before turning back to his men.

"Lads!" Karb shouted. "The Sister of the Hawk is back."

A few of the guardsmen greeted her with quick nods. Emma noted a few new faces of among them and assumed they were what remained of the other squads. Two of them were being treated by a medic. Ferik was the last one she noticed. He looked up from the vox to give her a quick wave of his hand.

"New orders?" Karb asked.

"Yes." Emma said. "Gather the smoke markers, we are going to use them on to the tank squadron."

"You mean the one guarding the fortress gate?" Ferik asked, his voice noticeably shacking.

Emma nodded

"What for?" Karb asked.

"It will give the Basilisks a target to aim for."

"Right." Karb turned to his men. "Alright lads, you heard the sisters! Pick up your weapons and get ready to move!" The sergeant barked. "Ferik, gather up those damn smoke markers."

Every guardsman in the bunker started running around inside the cramped area they had to share. Some of them tripping and pushing into the each other but Ferik was mostly left alone as he started gathering little bright red cylinders. He put at least three to his own belt and handed out the rest to the other guardsmen.

"Canoness." Emma voxed. "This is Emma."

" _What is it?_ " The Canoness´ stern voice replied.

"We are preparing to take out the heavy armor guarding the fortress gate. Once the gate is open we will deploy smoke grenades for you to processed."

" _Then the heretics will truly feel the Emperor´s wrath._ " Even through the crackling of the vox, Emma could hear the zealotry in the Canoness´ voice.

"Over and out." Emma said.

"Ferik!" Karb bellowed. "You´re done handing out those markers. Heat up the vox and tell HQ what to look for."

"Yes, sir." Ferik gave his sergeant a quick salute before putting the headset back on and started spinning up the vox. He quickly relied the orders and put the headset to his side. "The orders have been received. The Basilisks will shoot for the red smoke once they see it."

"Well then get our bloody weapon and get ready. We´re heading straight for the mouths of Hellhounds."

Ferik picked up his weapon and strapped his helmet on. Emma noticed his arm shacking, trembling even.

"Sophia." Emma voxed. "Are you ready?"

" _We´re in position and will lift in sixty seconds._ " 

"Roger that." Emma closed the vox relay. "Get ready." She drew her sword.

"The Emperor isn´t going to like us waiting inside this bunker." Karb shouted. "Gather your weapons, put one foot in front of the other and follow my lead." He turned to Emma and she followed him to the bunker´s entrance.

"Right now, lads." The sergeant raised his lasgun. "Charge!" He ran forward, Emma was at right behind him.

She glanced up at the wall, towards the gun turrets at the top. They were spitting randomly as before. Now mostly towards the second trench. It was just what she was hoping for.

"Follow me!" Emma shouted, her voice amplified by the vox-grill. She grabbed the lip of the trench and heaved herself up. With one swift motion, she rolled on her back and got to her feet. With her boots on the ground she sprinted towards the fallen tower. As she ran for the metallic carcass, Emma glanced over her shoulder to get a look at the guardsmen. She managed to count at least four following her. One she recognized as sergeant Karb, the others were uncertain.

Once she reached the fallen tower, Emma put herself between it and the tank squadron in front of her. The four soldiers she had seen quickly followed. A final one was stuck by the trench, struggling to climb out of it. Just glancing at him Emma couldn´t be sure of who he was and she had no time to look further.

To the east, the Wings were taking to the air. The screeches of their jump packs almost drowning out the roars of the gun turrets. Sophia was at the front, her claws sparkling with blue lighting and her flamer spewing flames in the shape of a curved spear. The Wings landed right in the middle of the tank squadron. White flames burned between the hulking metal beasts.

"Move!" Emma shouted and ran towards the Hellhounds. The guardsmen followed.

As they got closer to the mouths of the Hellhounds, the ground shifted from a soft mud to scorched, blackened dirt. Emma could fell something snapping under her boots as she charged across the desolated wasteland.

Despite the Wings attacking the rear of the tanks, one of the Hellhounds turned it muzzle and torrent of orange flames shot forth.

Her heart beat once and Emma felt chilling wave run under her skin as the flames leaped towards her. She crossed her arms in front of her and felt her heels digging into the ground as the burning liquid slammed into her. The light of the inferno was nothing but a burning white light on her lenses. Even through her armor, she could feel the heat of the flames on her skin. She could feel blisters growing on her skin only to burst moments later. But she did not stop. Unsure of weather the guardsmen where lying burned beside her or if they were still fighting, Emma kept pushing. Towards the flames.

Whether it had taken ten seconds or a minute, Emma felt the force of the flames easing of. The relief was so sudden she almost stumbled, and then the Hellhound was right in front of her.

The robes on her armor had completely burned away and parts of her gauntlets had melted away, exposing the layers of ceramite hidden underneath. But when she activated the power sword, the blade crackled to life with the scream of a thousand birds.

Roaring through the broken vox grill, Emma climbed on top of the of Hellhound, turned the sword on her hand and started stabbing down on the armor. The first strike produced only a narrow gash and blade returned clean. But once she started repeatedly stabbing down on the tank, swinging her entire upper body to make the sword cut deeper, the wound she had managed to open grew wider and the blade became stained with blood.

"Emma!" A voice barked.

She glanced behind her and saw a pillar of red smoke. Beyond it, was sergeant Karb behind the fallen tower. He and the other guardsmen had managed to deploy multiple markers around the tanks.

"Get out of there!" He shouted.

Emma gave him a quick nod and leaped of the Hellhound. "Sophia." Emma voxed, gratified that it still worked. "Fall back. The markers have been deployed. Fall back before the Basilisks start firing."

" _Roger that._ " Sophia voxed back.

As Emma ran back to the first trench, she could hear the Wings leaping through the air again. When she jumped back into the trench the ground started shaking. At first it was just one tremble, but then it started coming in bursts. Each one followed by a quick splash of dirt raining down into the trench. She whipped some of it away with her hand and turned to glance at the tank squadron.

She had to blink before she realized what she was looking at. The squadron of tanks that had been guarding the fortress gate had into hammered into the ground by the Basilisks, only smoking, gutted wreckages remained. Then the artillery started hammering into the gate, each blast echoing like a massive bell.

A quick breath pushed through her helmet. "Canoness?" She voxed.

" _Yes?_ " The Canoness´ voice would have been difficult to hear if her helmet´s cogitator hadn't muted the sound of the shells clanging into the fortress gate.

"The squadron guarding the fortress has been taken out. The Basilisks have started bombarding the fortress gate. Prepare to attack."

" _Roger._ "

"Wait for my signal." Emma canceled the vox line and started jogging to the east. The 54th should be back in the bunker by now and she needed their smoke grenades.

Halfway there, she found Ferik hunching in the trench.

"Ferik." Emma said. "Where´s the rest of our squad?"

"What?" He said as his eyes squinted.

"I said, where is our squad." Emma raised her voice.

"Out there." Ferik pointed over the trench, to the wall. "In pieces."

 _They didn´t manage to get away in time._ Emma realized.

"What about the rest?" Emma asked. "Are they still in the bunker?"

"Yes, Dan is still keeping an eye on Gaive."

Emma didn´t bother to remember their names. "Do you still have smoke grenades left?"

"I have…" Ferik looked through his pockets. "Two, there may be more left the in the bunker."

Another salvo of shells struck into the gate. This time scream of metal was followed a thunderous groan. Emma turned at saw the gate clinging to the wall by its hinges. She blinked as the whole thing started falling. The ground gave another rumble when it crashed into the ground.

"Move!" Emma took Ferik by the shoulder and pulled him up. They ran back to the bunker.

"Contact HQ." Emma said once they were inside. "Tell them to cease fire."

Ferik rubbed his ear. "Contact HQ and tell them to stop shooting?" He asked as he hunched down by the vox.

"Yes," Emma confirmed. "and hand me those smoke grenades."

Ferik gave her the two he had and cranked up the vox-caster.

"I need at least one more guardsman with a strong arm." Emma said.

"I´ve only got one arm left but it's the good one." Said a guardsman with the remains of his left arm wrapped in bloodstained bandages. "What do you need it for?"

"Take two smoke grenades and throw them between the trenches." Emma attached the grenades to her belt.

"Alright." He put a smoke grenade in his pocket. "Are we going now?"

Emma paused. "Ferik?"

"They will stop shooting."

"Let´s go." Emma turned and ran out the bunker, the guardsman following her.

"Throw the first." Emma shouted to the guardsman. He put the pin between his teeth and flung the grenade over his head, a tail of thin, grey fog following it.

They ran another thirty meters down the trench. "Threw the next and head back to the bunker." He did as he was told and Emma kept running forward on her own. She threw the third grenade, ran until she was about a hundred meters away from the gate and tossed the final one.

"Move." Emma voxed to the Canoness.

" _We are coming._ " The Canoness answered.


	20. Chapter 17

The black rose chapter 17

The smoke blurred everything. Even with her helmet´s cogitator shifting between multiple sights, it was still a blur. If not for the compass in the corner of her eye, Johana could have been running in circles for all she knew.

When she came out of the smoke, the light washed through her lenses. It burned for a brief moment, until her eyes could adjust. She could see the wall before her and the third trench in front of it. To her left, the Canoness with her sword drawn. Looking past her, Johana saw Anna. The banner of the hawk flying above her head. She looked back at the wall and saw one of her sister climbing out of the trench.

 _Emma._ Johana thought. The robes of her armor had been burned off, reduced to crackled, black flaps of cloth. The ceramite on her forearms where no better. The metal had been liquified, turning the black armor into a shimmering, murky silver. But Emma shoved no bother. When the Talons where leaping above the third trench, Emma was already halfway to the gate. Beyond her, the Wings where leaping forward, landing inside the tank squadron.

As Emma was running for the gate, she glanced over her shoulder. Once she reached the destroyed tanks took cover behind one of them. It was only a brief stop before she climbed on top of the tank to join the Wings.

When Johana reached the gate, she was greeted by a blasted wasteland. The ground, scarred by tank shells, smoke bleeding out of the cracks in the rock bed. The Wings where gathered in front of the gate, Emma was behind them.

"Sophia!" The Canoness shouted, her voice amplified through her vox grill.

The palatine turned upon hearing her. "What are our orders?"

"Use your jump packs to assault the eastern wall and take out the heretics." The Tone of her voice hardened. "Make sure the towers can´t stop our Rhinos."

"Yes, Canoness."

"Wait for us to charge."

"Yes, Canoness."

The Canoness raised the blade above her head as it crackled to life with blue lightning. "Talons of the Hawk!" She bellowed. "Ready our weapons!"

Sisters carrying sword drew them, sisters carrying bolters cocked them. Johana drew her own sword and ran up Emma.

"Charge!" The Canoness roared before Johana could reach Emma.

The Talons ran through the gate and a hail of bullets and las-beams meet them. The sisters responded with their roaring bolters and screaming blades.

Johana ran up to Emma. With her sister at her side, the pair charged across the courtyard. The first line of fire was in front of them. Though the heretics fired everything they muster at the Sisters it was to no vail. Their fire simply glanced of their armor, even Emma´s.

The Canoness was the first to reach the front. Her sword killed the first heretic. Anna´s was the second. Despite wielding the sword in her off hand, she cleaved the heretic in half with a single swing.

The rest of the Talons came on the front. Swords cutting through flesh like water. Bolters punching through the armor like it was thin, dry wood. Blood splattered from the cracked plates. The assault didn´t last for more than a minute. Some men tried to run away, fleeing the battlefield and head back inside the fortress. Anyone who tried to do so was gunned down by bolter fire.

"Are you unhurt?" Johana asked Emma when things went quiet for a moment.

Her sister turned to her. The left visor was cracked and looked ready to shatter at any moment. "I´m fine." Emma just shook her head.

Despite Emma´s assurance, Johana felt cold waves running under skin every time her heart beat. She forced herself to take a slow, deep breath and wiped some of the blood of her blade.

"To the second gate!" The Canoness shouted.

Both Emma and Johana jumped at the Canoness´ sudden roar but prepared to continue the assault none the less.

The second gate was hardly anything compared to the first one. Just a simple metallic construction the size of four meters. The sisters carrying heavy bolters gathered in a line before the gate and raised their weapons. They released a crude symphony made of bolters drumming against the thin metal the gate was made of. Slowly, the wall gave in and started bending inwards until the hinges and locks of the gate snapped, releasing the gate with loud crack.

The Canoness took charge, Emma followed her and Johana was behind her. The rest of the Talons trailing behind them.

What they meet inside where no soldiers fit for battle. They were wounded and disorganized. There was no chance for them braze for the attack.

As Johana was pushing her sword through one of the heretics, the warm blood spraying across her face in crimson faucet, she felt the inside of her head pounding. Like the clapper of a bell was banging against the inside of her skull. She closed her eyes and felt her heart take a beat, a throb of pain coming with it.

Her eyes opened and the man was just hanging from her blade. Johana lowered her blade and the corpse slid of her sword before hitting the ground. She drew a breath and felt her head pounding.

Emma took one of the heretics by the back of his head and punched her sword through his neck. She swung the blade to her side and the head separated from the body with crimson beads flying through the air.

"Emma!" Johana shouted. A buzzing chainsword slammed into Emma´s head. The teeth grinding into the metal, producing little showers of sparkles as they dug in.

Emma flinched to the side, clutching the side of her helmet.

Johana leaped forward, roaring with her sword screaming. The blood in the heretic´s face retreated into his body before Johana´s cut through his armor. The sparkling blade sprouted from his back. Blood ran from his stomach. He looked at Johana, his arms trembling as he grasped the power sword out of desperation. The crackling blade cut his finger down to the bone.

The muscles in Johana´s neck flexed. In hard lift, she pushed the sword up the length of his barrel. The meat and bones gave her no resistance. A shower of gore ran from the gash running from his shoulder down his stomach.

"Emma!" Johana turned to her sister.

Emma grunted and leaned on her sword. The chainsword had left an ugly wound on her helmets forehead, exposing the wires and circuitry underneath. Emma released her helmets straps and tossed it aside, her blond hair rolling outwards as she shook her head.

"I´m okay." She said, panting. "But the helmet is broken. I can´t see through it."

Johana pulled her sister to her feet.

"Let´s go." Emma said.

Johana gave a nod in response and the pair jogged up to the Canoness. She was gathering the Talons to push into the bowls of the fortress. The whole complex was built like a maze and the Sisters would have gotten lost inside of it in mere minutes. Thanks to the intel provided by Colonel Garius, every one of the Sisters had a map of the entire thing displaying before their cogitators. The only problem was that they did not know where the Maid was being kept and once inside it would be difficult if not impossible to talk over the vox.

"We will need to split up." Anna told the Canoness as she planted the banner in the ground next to her. "We don´t know where the heretics are hiding the Maiden and if we head in the wrong direction they might kill her or somehow manage to escape with her."

"You´re right." The Canoness replied with a bitter tone. "I´ll take half and head down, you´ll take the other half and head up."

"We´ll have to split up further to cover more ground."

"Just do what needs to be done." The Canoness snapped back at Anna.

"Yes, Canoness."

Johana and Emma shared a quick look between each other. In Emma´s blue eyes, Johana could see the corner of her eye slightly twitching as the pupils shrank.

"Sisters!" The Canoness said, raising her sword before pointing it forwards. "Everyone on the left side of my blade, follow Anna. Everyone on the right side follow me."

Johana drew a slight sigh and looked over at Emma. The corners of her mouth where slightly raised. Johana, her left hand opened, reaching for Emma´s. But before she had a chance to grasp it, Emma was walking forward, following the Canoness.

They entered the bowls of the fortress and the bright sunlight from outside was changed to a muted, sickly yellow light produced by humming beam-lights in the roof. The air was cold to the point that puffs of mist came out of the Sisters vox-grills in time with their breaths. Despite that, there was no less noise inside. Everything from their boots slamming into the metallic gratins covering the floor to the distant, echoing noises of panicked screams.

Johana rubbed her head, feeling like a hammer was pounding her head.

The Canoness gestured for two sisters to head down the corridor. Emma and Johana obeyed the Canoness´ order and split off from the rest of the Talons.

The light in these corridors was dimmer then before. The beam-lights seemed to struggle just to manage half the light the other ones produced. As they progressed further down the hallway, the sound of their Sisters grew softer, changing from clangs too little clatters, like shells being tossed. Soon it was impossible to ear, even with Johana using her helmets amplified hearing aids.

"Do you feel it too?" Johana asked.

Emma, walking in front of her, readied her bolt pistol. "Feel what?"

"The pain." Johana grunted and bit down. "This pounding feeling. In your head. Don´t you have it too?"

"No." Emma rounded a corner.

Suddenly, every heartbeat made it feel like her head was being crushed from the inside. The frenzied stabs made her flinch to the point of dropping her sword and grasping her head with both hands, the tips of her armored fingers scrapping against the ceramite.

"Johana." She Felt Emma´s hand grasping her arm. She forced her eyes to open but the pain was amplified every time she did. Out of reflex her body folded together. If Emma hadn´t been holding her, Johana would have been lying on the floor.

The hinges on her helmet were released. She could feel Emma pealing her arms away before pulling it off.

"Johana!" Emma shouted, shaking Johana´s shoulders to make her open her eyes. But as much as Johana tried, her eyes refused to open. She just felt her fingers pushing down her head, as if they were trying to crush the pain inside her skull.

The intense pain was broken by crack on her cheek. Her eyes snapped open and Johana could see Emma, her blue eyes narrowed and her arm pulled back.

"Can you hear me?" Emma asked.

The pain was far from gone. It was almost strong as it had been before but now Johana could manage to fight it.

"Yes." Johana nodded, her eyes blinking and her jaw trembling.

Emma pulled to Johana up, keeping a hand on her shoulder. "Can you stand?"

Feeling like something trying to smash its way out of her skull, Johana forced a slow breath. "I can manage."

"Alright." Emma gave a crooked smile.

" _Aaaaaeeeeeiiighh!_ "

The scream came from deeper down the in the corridor. Despite still trembling with pain, Johana noticed the color being drained from her Emma´s face.

"Emma?" Johana pushed herself up.

Her sister closed her eyes and took a visibly straining swallow. Emma was about to turn back to Johana when the scream came a second time.

" _Aaaaaaaeeeeeeeeeiiiiigh!_ "

High pitched, screeching, the scream leaped through the corridors and punched into their ears like smoking, cold needles. Mixed with the continuous stabs of pain in her skull produced by every heartbeat, Johana´s hands snapped back to her head. The tips pushing down to the point that she could almost feel the little bones in her fingers snapping.

The scream started to fade. Though her head still throbbed, Johana could force her eyes to open. Emma was folded together in front of her, her face buried in her hands.

"Emma." Feeling her body protesting every movement and leaning on the wall, Johana walked forward and Emma´s face started slowly rising from her hands. The blue eyes were foggy, misty almost. Emma closed her eyes rose to her feet.

"We have to keep going." Emma took Johana by the wrist, a little tear rolling from her right eye. "For the Emperor." She said as she pulled Johana back up.

Johana looked at her sister. The water in her eyes had not been drained by the tear. There was still much more left.

They picked up their weapons and kept going. Emma was walking in front, her sword in her right hand and the bolt gun in her left hand. Johana was less than a meter behind. She focused on Emma´s golden blond hair and tried to banish the pain to the back of her mind, even as it grew stronger with every step she took.

They rounded a corner and heard a noise. It was another voice of pain but this time it was far smaller.

 _A cry?_ Johana thought. _No, a sob._

Emma stopped, Johana looked past her and saw a woman. A small and frail thing. Couldn´t have been more than fifteen years old, though the state of her face gave her some dotage. Dressed in a plain white robe, her arms where crossed across her chest and her entire body shriveled. As Johana looked down she saw something that managed to break the pulsating pain in her head.

Between the woman´s legs, the white fabric turned red. Caked in blood.

The shock of it soon wore of and the pain returned. Johana put a hand on Emma shoulder, trying to stop herself from falling again. When she looked at Emma´s face. The skin had turned ghastly pale, like it was only a thin vail, barely covering the things underneath.

The woman snapped and stared at the two sisters. Her arms trembled as she started at them, the fingers covered in the same blood as her robes. Tears dripped from her nose, onto the metal floor with little wet smacks.

Emma´s fingers started unfolding and her weapons soon slipped from her hands. She stood completely still, staring at the woman before her with wide open eyes.

The woman started springing towards them. Her arms spread apart until they were wide open and her fingers looking ready to scratch their eyes out.

Johana stepped before the woman´s path and pushed her sword through the woman´s stomach. Blood started spilling from the wound as Johana pulled her sword back.

The woman stared at Johana. The murky, brown eyes staring at her without blinking. She stared down at the gash on her stomach, her fingers hovering above the wound before they slowly sinking into the wound. She looked back up at Johana and feel to the ground. The eyes stopped moving soon after.

Johana stood still, explosions hammered the inside of her skull. Suddenly, she felt a hand on her shoulder. Turning her head, she could see Emma, her face just as pale as it was before.

"Could you… move a little?" Emma asked.

Johana took a step to the side.

Emma kneeled down beside the woman and reached for her necklace, but soon discovered it was gone. "Could I borrow yours?"

Once again, Johana did as her sister asked.

Emma took the beads between her fingers and kissed the golden bead. She muttered something quietly to herself and closed the woman´s eyes with a gently brush of her fingers.

"Emperor." Emma said. "Guard her soul."

Johana tried thinking about what she saw her sister do, but with the inside of her skull throbbing like it was trying to split itself apart, it was difficult to even focus on what was in front of her.

Emma rose and tried to give the necklace back to Johana but the inside of her skull started throbbing, worse then before. The sword slipped from her hand and she struggled not to fall again.

Her sister took her by the shoulder and stopped from her falling. "The Emperor protects us." Emma assured her.

But the pain didn´t fade. It just kept pounding. She wasn´t sure for how long it kept going. It like something had managed to crack her head open, like it was a cage holding some wild animal wanting to escape. When the pain eventually grew barrable, Johana saw Emma, standing in front her. She was about to ask her how much time had passed when she saw a figure in the corner of her eye.

It looked like a large figure at first, but soon Johana realized that it was just the massive, embroider robe that made it look like that. For a quick moment, that pain was pushed back as Johana realized who she was looking at.

"The Maid…" Johana said before the pain returned, worse then before.

Emma saw her and smiled before she turned back to her sisters.

"Their howling…" The Maid said with frail voice. "Their wet screams. I am… drowning in them."

Johana forced one of her eyes open and saw that the arms of the Maids robes were stained with steaming blood.

"You will rise and burn." The Maid said before she drew a knife and pushed it into her neck.

"No!" Johana leaped to her feet and ran for the Maid. She took the Maid in her arms and put a hand on the wound. But it was to late. The Maid only let out a gurgle of blood before her head tilted back and her eyes went white.


	21. Chapter 18

The black rose chapter 18

 _The world looked silent. It looked calm, peaceful compared to the Eye._ Derik stared through the window, his closed fist between his forehead and the glass. _Why are eyes so easy to trick?_

The door behind him banged.

Derik sighed and rubbed a hand across his face. _Go away._ He wished.

"Come in." He said.

Derik turned as the door opened and saw General Corey enter the room. His felt his features sinking when seeing the man.

"Lord General."

"Lord Inquisitor."

"I have received the news. I know what happened at the siege." Derik remarked before the General could say anything.

"Good." Corey replied.

"Is that it?" Derik raised a brow.

Corey shrugged in response.

"I was just expecting more." _There are few things people like more then to be proven right to those who doubted them._

"Won´t make a difference if I had more." Corey said. "The Maid is dead, and the Sisters and Alfred are both furious."

"Tell me, would I be wrong if I said that the Sisters are furious at your guardsmen and Alfred is furious at me?"

Corey drew a breath. "Both of them are angry at both of us. Doesn´t matter much now."

Derik felt himself puzzling at the General´s words. "I don´t think so."

"What do you mean?"

"I suspect Alfred to be a lost cause at this point. He´s seen too much, and yet not enough. He´s determined that he hates me."

"He may hate you but I´m more concerned for the lives of my soldiers." Corey said, his voice stiffening. "Because of you, there may be another civil war just as this one ends, or we may end up infighting and the heretics finish us of."

"Not if I can help it."

"What are you going to do? Lay down exterminatus and cleanse the planet of life? Or even better why don´t you force the Sisters to follow you and kill everyone once they´re on their way to Cadia?" The General growled. "It would be good for you wouldn´t it? You get rid of all of our problems and get what you want."

"If that was my plan, do you think I would allow on my ship? Do you think I would even have talked to Alfred to begin with?"

"Shut up." Corey snapped.

"Why?" Derik rebutted. "Am I making sense? Listen, there may be a way to get the Sisters to fight alongside your soldiers. To end this civil war."

"How?"

"I read the reports, one of the Sisters that where part of finding the Maid experienced an extreme, abnormal migraine. And you said that the Maid was famous for being able to wash away the corruption of chaos, yes?"

"I did but what does have to do with it?" Corey looked back at Derik with puzzled eyes.

Derik folded his arms and drummed his fingers. "I have a suspicion but I can´t say for certain without the body." He threw the General a quick glare. "And if I´m correct I don´t think you´re going to like the answer."

"Try me." The General replied with stiffness in his voice.

"Whether knowingly or unknowingly, the Maid may have been a psyker."

"What?!" Corey bellowed. "You suspect that the Maid of Astroya, the one who brought hundreds of pure children into this world under the Emperor´s blessing to be a psyker? A mutant?"

"Yes." Derik replied.

Corey paced back and forth, his hand rubbing against his forehead. He kept silent as he plodded.

"If that is the case," The General replied after a few moments. "Why does it matter?"

"It might be the reason she killed herself." Derik said.

Corey sighed, leaning his back against the wall. "Explain."

"Psykers have an affinity for the Warp and the energies that flow around it. Like how some have an affinity for running, swimming or just general strength. Unlike most other talents however, being a psyker comes with more curses then blessings. I trust you are aware of what happens when a psyker is discovered."

"I am aware that the Inquisition takes them." Corey said. "The rest is not something I am familiar with."

"There are few who are." _Thankfully._ "Considering how famous the Maid was, I would assume that she did not know herself of what exactly what she was. You and I both know what a psyker is, but most citizens in the Imperium are not familiar with it. She may have gotten lucky and managed to control her powers, or they just took a long time manifest. Either way it would seem like she had a knack for removing the psychic energies in those that touched her, being able to somehow channel them away."

"But how did cause her to kill herself?" Corey asked.

"Because the Warp is a swirling, mad sea of energies fueled by the emotions of everything with a soul in the galaxy. When you are able to feel it and channel it like psykers do, personal comfort is usually one of the first things to go. Daemons and other nightmarish entities will haunt you, like a pack of mad wolves chasing you through a forest in the night." Derik scoffed lightly. "And that is just for the average untrained psyker, this close to the Eye and during a bloody siege, the Warp would have been screaming with the pain, fury and hatred of the dead and living alike."

"Is that what she experienced?" Corey asked, his eyes widening and his skin growing pale.

"In some respects, yes."

"By the Emperor…" Corey rubbed his temple.

 _That´s not mentioning the Warp-predators and parasites that would have been seeing her as a piece of fresh meat. Poor girl._ Derik took a moment to think about the Maid, her intentions, her ambitions and how she ended. The conclusion send ripples under his skin, cold enough to make him shudder.

"If you are right," Corey said. "And I hope you are, there may be a way out of this."

"I never found much usage in hoping."

"You do strike me as a man of action." The General replied, some bitterness in his tone.

"Regardless, there is still the issue of Alfred. You said he was furious with me."

"No less than he is with me."

"You?" Derik raised a brow.

"He sees enemies everywhere these days. Once he found out he accused me of being a conspirator to have tainted the Sisters and corrupted them." Corey shacked his head. "If any of the Sisters had been there, I would have been bleeding out on a crucifix by now."

Derik puzzled for a moment. "Who´s the commander of the forces deployed with the Sisters?"

"Colonel Garius Lup." Corey replied.

"Do you know him?"

"He was my mentor and teacher in the art of war."

 _And yet you are outranking him. Curious._ "Send word to him, that Inquisitor Derik Horst is on his way."

A smile flashed on the General´s lips before it quickly faded. "What´s your plan now?"

"I am going to the fortress. From there I have a few ideas, the goal being to avoid the Sisters and the Imperial guard infighting and get them to stand united a second time."

It took a moment before Corey replied. "Why don´t I come along?"

"Because if Alfred is furious with you, then he´s made sure that the Sisters know it." Derik replied. "I know that the same applies to me, but you are just a general of the Imperial guard and I´m an Inquisitor."

"You´re not wrong. You are an Inquisitor and that means your words hold more weight to the Sisters then that of a general." Corey stared into the ground. "I will make sure that Garius knows you´re coming. Be careful with the Sisters though. I wasn´t joking about the crucifix." He turned and left the room.

Derik turned back to the window and started thinking when another knock came through the door. _Did he forget something?_ He wondered.

"Come in." Derik said.

It wasn´t the General, it was Tayber who entered the room.

"What is it now, tech-priest?"

The clicking yellow dots locked onto Derik´s face. "We´ve just received a message, lord Inquisitor." One of the segmented hands held forth a rolled parchment.

 _Could he be any vaguer?_ Derik grunted to himself as he took the parchment.

"Prepare for departure." Derik said as he unrolled the parchment, quickly skimming through it. It was a simple update on the state on Cadia nothing of importance. But then he soon slowed down. His eyes darted back forth between the letters.

"Are we finally leaving this planet?" Tayber´s vox butted in.

"No." Derik stopped himself. "We are going to the other side of this world. To meet the Sisters of the Hawk."

"Very well." The tech-priests voice grated noticeably more. "I will have the rest of the crew preparing the ship." Tayber turned and left Derik.

The moment the door closed, Derik rushed over to his desk. He took a notebook and quill and started writing. Word by word, he was transcribing it.

"Head…" He refilled the quill. "Approach…"

The quill hanged still above the paper, a drop of jet black ink fell of the tip and quickly sunk into the parchment.

"Wolf."


	22. Chapter 19

The black rose chapter 19

The shower room was filled with hot air. A soft fog drifted across the dank floor as Johana felt the warm water running down her head, across her back and dripping down on the floor next to her feet. She was clutching her arm, the thumb rubbing her skin to the point of it turning red. The other arm was clutching the side of her barrel, clutching the skin as the muscles tensed and relaxed.

She opened her eyes and felt water running down across her face, the streams turning and shifting with her features and her scar before collecting on her nose and falling. She only felt a cold, pulsing lump in her chest and a hot, almost burning thing below it.

Johana turned off the water and threw her head back, feeling her dark hair gently whipping her neck. She turned and saw Emma standing on the far side of the room. Her golden blond hair hanging loose and her forearms wrapped in white bandages.

"Hi." Emma said with a smile. Apart from the dressing on her arms, she was just as naked as Johana was.

"Hello." Johana replied, keeping her brown eyes focused on Emma´s blue.

"Could you help me?" Emma asked. "The hospitaller told me not to get the bandages wet. Soo…" She shrugged.

"Oh, of course."

"Thanks." Emma took a small stool and presented her back to Johana as she pushed the bulk of her hair over her shoulder.

Johana unhooked one of the showerheads from its locks, took a bottle soap and turned on the water. It was a little too warm at first, then to cold, but after another quick adjustment she felt that it was just right.

"Could you tilt you tilt you head back?" Johana asked before she was about to start pouring the water through Emma´s hair.

Emma did as Johana asked her, her eyes closed has she started leaning back.

Johana took Emma´s hair in her hands and started pouring the water through it. As the water ran through Emma´s golden strings it grew heavier in Johana´s hand. She gently pushed her hand up and down, making sure that the water managed to get through her thick, soft hair.

She gave the water a pause and opened the bottle of soap, she was about to massage it into Emma´s hair when she said.

"How are you felling?"

"Okay." Johana put her hands on Emma´s scalp and started gently rubbing the soap in.

"We both know what we saw, and we both agreed not to lie." Emma said.

Though the tone of Emma´s voice wasn´t implying it, the words felt blunt to Johana. Like something had punched into her face. She drew a hard breath.

"I don´t know what I fell." Johana said. "She just stood there, then the blood was running down her neck. I… I tried to stop it."

"I know." Emma took Johana´s hand by the wrist, her fingers gently sliding across Johana´s foam-covered skin until her hand was carefully holding onto Johana´s fingers. "I know."

Johana´s hand sank down to Emma´s shoulder, her hand gently tracing down Emma´s arm.

"That tickles." Emma said.

"Sorry." Johana pulled her hand back.

She could hear Emma releasing a small giggle.

"You can wash my hair out now." Emma said.

Johana took the showerhead and let the water wash away the white foam that had engulfed Emma´s hair. At first it came off in a thick lump, but it soon became small islands, clinging to Emma´s golden hair. One by one, the little islands were washed of, running along the floor before dissevering down the drain in swift swirls.

"Do you remember what she said?" Johana asked.

Emma blinked a few times. "I think she said that she was drowning, the screams and howls would never stop."

"What kind of curse could she have been talking about?"

"She was talking about screams, about howls." Emma said, leaning her head forward. "Think it could have been some kind of Warp-Spawn that was haunting her?"

"Maybe." While the Canoness had not said anything about it herself, Johana´s gut told her that the Canoness would be blaming the Imperial guard for tainting their quest. "Some of our sisters doubtless suspect the guardsmen."

"Mhm." Emma nodded. "Doesn´t matter what we think though. The Canoness has the final word on what happens next."

Johana stopped, the showerhead running warm water through Emma´s hair, down on her hand. Despite the water, she felt a cold running across her body.

"You´re right." Johana said, the words coming with a hard slam to her face.

Emma rose from the stool, water dripping from skin. "Thank you."

"Wait." Johana stopped Emma before she had time to take a single step.

"What is it?" Emma asked.

"When we saw that young woman, your face turned completely pale." Johana noticed Emma flinching a little at the words. "Your weapons slipped from your hands and you didn´t do anything when she was coming for you."

Emma swallowed. "Yes."

"Why?"

"I just wasn´t prepared for what I saw." Emma replied stiffly.

"Emma, I´ve fought alongside you for more than ten years. I´ve seen you kill heretics a hundred times. Weather they´re men or women you´ve always killed them without hesitation. But I´ve only seen your face like that once before."

Emma didn´t say anything. She closed her eyes and Johana could see the muscles on her legs twitching and flexing.

"It was back in the village." Johana said. "When you killed that boy."

Emma kept her eyes closed but her body started shivering, like she was cold.

Johana walked up and took Emma by the wrist. Slowly and gently she turned Emma to face her, but Emma kept her eyes closed.

"Emma," Johana said, noticing the tone of her voice hardening. "Why did you drop your weapons?"

Emma didn´t answer.

"Why did she scare you much?" Johana tried to shake her.

Emma´s eyes wrinkled as she forced them shut. Her lips twisted as her head started tilting forward.

"Why are you lying to me?!"

Emma´s eyes burst open and her head snapped upwards. Her blue eyes quickly narrowed and locked to Johana´s.

"BECAUSE I LOST MY OWN CHILD!" Emma screamed loud enough for her voice to crack.

A silence fell over the room.

Johana stared at Emma with wide open eyes and hanging jaw.

Emma´s head was hanging and her eyes where growing murky. She sniffed and pulled her arms over her chest. A breath passed through her clenched teeth.

"Before I joined the order…" Tears started rolling from her eyes. "I was a whore. My mother was whore and her mother before that." She rubbed her eyes. "When I was fourteen, my stomach started growing and my mother explained what was going to happen." Emma looked up at Johana. The skin on her face was folded and had turned red by the tears. "I don´t know who the father was, and I didn´t care. I was going to have a child. I was going to be a mother."

Johana reached forward, gently placing her hand on Emma´s shoulder.

Emma buried her face in her hands and started shivering again. "I could feel him growing inside me. I could feel him kicking and moving in my belly. He felt so strong, so eager." She sniffed and trembled. "But then when I was going into labor…"

* * *

Emma screamed. She screamed loud enough for it to echo through the entire hive. Her skin was throbbing with heat, thick beads of sweat grew and rolled along it. The straps she was holding onto where starting groan in protest as she felt herself flex the muscles in her arms to the point of breaking.

"Push!" Her mother shouted.

"I am pushing!" Emma bellowed back as tears started blending with the sweat. She felt as if she was starting to split between her legs, like her skin was going to crack up to her belly.

"Make it stop!" Emma cried. "Please!"

Her mother took a wet rug and wiped it across her Emma´s face while gently caressing her cheek. "Take a few breaths." She said, trying to slow her own breathing down.

Emma looked at her mother and tried to do as she was being told. The pain eased for a little though it was a fight onto itself to slow the breaths down. They were sharp, wincing and pushing between her clenched teeth.

"Okay?"

Emma nodded.

"Ready?"

Emma pushed a breath between her teeth, closed her eyes and nodded.

"And push!"

The scream returned. The muscles and tendons bit back in rebellion against her but Emma hardly felt it. She just kept pushing, pressing, hoping that it would soon be over.

The pain started blurring everything. She could hear her mother shouting at her, but she couldn´t make out any words. She knew that she was warm but she couldn´t feel the sweat drying up her skin. She could feel her eyes getting wet but she couldn´t tell if she was still crying or not. The _pain_. It was the only thing she could focus on. It was the only thing that reminded that her that she was still alive. That she was still fighting.

Then, suddenly, it disappeared. Like an inferno being repudiated oxygen, it died.

Emma laid still, gasping for air with her head hanging back. Her body still pulsated with heat and her skin was still moist with sweat and tears. She put a hand on her belly and felt it sinking beyond what she had grown used to. Her palm landed softly on her flat stomach.

"Give…" Emma said, her voice had turned into a soft whisper. "Give me my…" She dragged her head up and opened her eyes.

"Emma…" Her face was pale with little crimson droplets on her skin. In her arms was a little bundle, quiet and blood stained.

"Come on." Emma somehow found the strength to raise her arms. "Give me."

Gently, she placed the bundle in her daughter's arms.

It was only now that Emma could look at her child. Such a small little thing, she could hardly imagine that anyone could be that small. He was pink with red stains splashed smeared across his skin. He was silent with a little mop of brown hair on his head.

Carefully, Emma started rocking him back and forth in her arms.

"Be still child." She whispered into his ear. "Be still."

* * *

"I am impure." Emma said as fingers her fingers clutched the skin above her breasts. "I am tainted. I knew it then. The Emperor considered me unworthy. He had to punish my sins."

Johana opened her moth, she wanted to tell Emma that she was wrong. That it wasn´t her fault. But the words just couldn´t be formed. She put another hand on Emma´s shoulder.

With both hands on her shoulders Emma looked up at her sister. A thick stream of tears ran from her eyes. She struggled for gasping breaths between violent sobs.

Before Johana had a chance to react, Emma fell forward and wrapped her arms around Johana. She shook between the whimpers and Johana could feel Emma hanging onto her, as if her legs had given in.

Grasping her sister in her arms, Johana let them collapse to the floor as gently as she could manage. Even when on the ground, Emma couldn´t stop trembling.

"Why did he have to take my son?" Emma wailed, sucking shallow breaths. "Why?"

Johana felt the tears dripping of Emma´s nose, smacking onto her shoulder. The warm little droplets quickly disappearing along her wet skin.

 _Emma._ Johana wanted to say. _I love you._


	23. Chapter 20

The black rose chapter 20

Derik gathered the papers and tossed them aside. He reached into his desk, took a bottle of liquor and poured himself a full glass. He swallowed it in one swing. On its way down, he felt the liquor burning the inside of his throat, like he had swallowed a small ball of fire. Even when it reached his stomach it still burned for several seconds.

 _Of all the…_ Derik filled the glass and took another full swig. A grunt passed his lips as he felt the ship moving under his feet.

With the liquor still warming his stomach and the bottle in his hand, Derik walked away from his desk and stared out the window. He stared down at the world, muttering and cursing to himself. He took a mouthful and felt his head starting to swim a little.

Far below him, Derik imagined the people wandering around down there. People who had no greater concern then themselves, or at worst their families.

 _If the Emperor watches over us all, then he must be concerned for us all._ Derik shuddered at the thought of being concerned for everyone in the Imperium at once.Then he scowled at it.

 _Watch over yourself and make sure others want to watch over you._ Derik repeated a lecture his mentor taught him. It was a summary that he´d been told more times than he could count, to the point that he could swear that it was carved into the inside of his skull.

 _Useful though._ Derik noted to himself. _Must be why he made sure I remembered it._ He released a little drunk giggle to himself. Laughing at the paradox he just presented. _Tayber is right. Irony is funny. It´s just a matter of finding it. At least there where some good news._

Derik laughed a little more and took a shallow chug. Tripping a little, Derik wandered back to his desk and activated the vox.

"Tayber?" Derik called.

"What is it, Lord Inquisitor?" A crackling voice replied.

"Are you occupied?" He put the cork back on and put the bottle back into it desk.

"At the moment, my duties are minor."

"Good." Derik blinked a few times. "I wish to challenge you to another game."

"Why?" Tayber replied.

Derik shrugged to himself. "It will take us a good few hours before we reach the fortress and I have some matters I wish to discuss with you."

"Very well, Lord Inquisitor."

"See you soon then." Derik closed the vox and took out the board with its pieces. He could still feel the liquor swaying inside his head has he prepared the board.

It took few minutes before the tech-priest arrived. He wore his usual crimson robes and walked in a hunched manner.

"Welcome, Tayber." Derik said, drunkenly smiling.

"Shall we?" Tayber asked.

"White goes first." Derik gestured towards the tech-priest.

Like the last time they played, Tayber leaned over the pieces, his yellow-dot eyes purring as they moved from one piece of the board to the other. He moved his guardsmen two steps forward.

Derik felt his cheeks flushing. He managed to hide it before he made his own move.

"What was it you wanted to discuss with me?" Tayber asked without looking up from his pieces.

"What we are going to do after when we leave Prostoru." Derik replied.

One of the yellow dots snapped to stare up at Derik. "Has there been a development? Have things changed?"

Derik grunted at Tayber basically asking the same question twice.

"Some." Derik quickly glance down at the board and moved another guardsman forward. "It would appear that the forces of Chaos are moving and so are our own forces."

"You are only going to tell me what you want me to hear aren´t you?" Tayber moved his Adeptus Sororita forward.

"You are absolutely correct." Derik marked with a finger. "Can I then assume, that you know what will happened if you try to pry more information out of me?"

"I don´t know the details but I can imagine well enough." Tayber looked down at the board. "It´s your move, Inquisitor."

Derik simply moved another guardsman forward. "What I am going to tell you though I imagine that you, especially, will find it very interesting."

The tech-priest seemed more focused on the board then anything coming out of Derik´s mouth. The bright yellow dots moved between the pieces.

"On a world located just the within boundaries of the Eye of Terror, one of my colleagues believes there to be an STC fragment."

The Adeptus Sororita that Tayber was holding almost slipped from his segmented fingers. Slowly, his eyes rose under his hood and looked up at Derik. "An STC fragment? A standard template construct? An ancient piece technology long lost? A blessing from the Machine God?"

"Yes." Derik nodded.

The segments rings that made up Taybers fingers started to tremble. The Adeptus Sororita that Tayber had been holding onto dropped from his fingers and smacked into the board.

"You vox didn´t break, did it?" Derik asked after Tayber had stared blank at him for a few moments.

"Are you certain of this, Lord Inquisitor?"

"No." Derik shacked his head. "But I wouldn´t tell you this to begin with if I didn´t believe the information to have a decent chance of being accurate."

"By the Omnissiah." If Tayber had any visible skin left, Derik was certain he would see the tech-priest sweating.

"So, are you going to pick up the piece you dropped?"

Tayber quickly looked down at the figure and immediately picked it back up. He placed it back on the board and returned to staring at Derik.

The Inquisitor looked down at the board. "I have some more details regarding the planet that is suspected to be holding the STC." He moved another one of his guardsmen forward. "If you are interested."

"Yes, of course." Tayber lowered his gaze down to the board to quickly move another of his guardsmen before returning to stare back at Derik.

"It´s on the southern sector of the Eye, relatively close to this sector of planets." He moved his Adeptus Astartes. "It is, as you might have already guessed, a world corrupted by Chaos."

"Do you know which of the ruinous powers?" Tayber kept moving his guardsmen forward.

"I have few certain facts to go on." Derik used his guardsmen to take out one of Taybers. "But the report I received indicates that the traitor primarch of the Emperor´s Children may have at one point controlled, or claimed, the planet."

"The primarch of the Emperor´s Children." Tayber moved his Adeptus Astartes. "You mean Fulgrim. The primarch who gave himself to the Dark Prince of pleasure. Slaanesh."

"She who thirst, as the Xenos Eldar calls it." Derik took out the Astartes with a simple and obvious move using his Sororita.

"But don´t the demon primarchs hide deep within the Eye of Terror?"

"For the most part. But there have been cases where one of the treacherous sons have ventured beyond the Eye. Summoned by those mad enough to garner the attention and favor of the Chaos Gods."

Tayber used his Sororita to take out one of the guardsmen that Derik had pushed forward. "So, you think that Fulgrim might be on this world?"

"No." Derik started moving his dreadnought forward. "Or at the very least I´d say it´s very unlikely. The report could at best hint the presence of a demon prince. The rest was mostly extrapolation into it being a demon primarch. Is seems far more likely to be world merely tainted by Chaos, with Slaanesh probably being the dominating force."

"Either way, we most mobilize to get this STC fragment as soon as possible." Tayber said.

"As soon as possible, might be further away then you think." Derik felt his head swaying a little.

"Ah, yes." Tayber looked back down at the board. "There is the matter of the civil war on this planet." He moved his dreadnought. "And after that there is the black crusade."

"Only after that can we even attempt this expedition." Derik took Taybers Sororita.

The tech-priest grunted a code.

"Even without everything going on right now, an expedition into the Eye of Terror would be of monumental difficulty. Hundreds, if not thousands, will die."

"Do you know how valuable an STC fragment is?"

"Don´t insult me, tech-priest." Derik´s folded his arms across his chest. "I know very well how valuable it is."

"Then why are you hesitating?" Tayber asked.

The question gave Derik a pause. He looked down at the board while scratching the stub on his chin. Then he thought of a clear answer. "You know why. Because we have a far bigger problem to deal with right now. That STC fragment will do us no good if we´re all dead."

"A fair assessment." The tech-priest folded his worm like fingers together. "But what if the forces of Chaos gets ahold of it? Or some xenos find it?"

"Most xenos wouldn´t know what to do with, maybe apart from the Eldar. But I doubt that the forces of Chaos know or even care for its existence." Derik listened to his finger grating against the stubble of his chin. "But there is one within the Eye who might be able to make the use of it, should he get his hands on it."

Tayber nodded in agreement. "Fabius Bile."

"Indeed." Derik rubbed his eyes, feeling his head starting to sway and getting heavier. "On second thought, he may not be the only one. But it makes little difference. The location of the STC is a rumor at best, and both us and the forces of Chaos have greater things to concern ourselves with."

"Speak for yourself." Tayber snapped back the Inquisitor.

Derik narrowed his eyes towards Tayber. "My duty is not to satisfy your whims, tech-priest. My duty is to ensure the safety and growth of the Imperium within the galaxy. The STC fragment may be a powerful device, but when compared to the threat of a black crusade its value is rather diminished."

Tayber responded with some kind of distorted, crackling, grunting noise that Derik assumed was a bitter snark.

 _He wants the STC fragment. I´d have to be blind and deaf not to notice that._ Derik though. _But he doesn´t want to wait for it. Like a spoiled child, he wants it the moment he hears of it._

"We need the Sisters." Derik said. "Both for the battles ahead and for the expedition into the Eye itself. Only warriors pure of faith like them will be able to fight of the corruption of Chaos."

"I suppose you are right." Tayber admitted. "Lesser warriors would fall within moments."

"You mean like you and me?"

"Neither of us are warriors." Tayber remarked.

"True." Derik shrugged. "But we cannot fight of the taint of Chaos the way the Sisters can. Not even the Astartes can match them in that."

"Curios that simple human warriors can outperform the Emperor´s own creations. That even his own sons could fall to the temptations."

"I heard someone put it pretty bluntly once; the primarchs are the greatest humans that ever lived. They were every human strength amplified, but as a result every flaw was equally amplified. That is why half of them fell to the temptation of Chaos."

"That´s an interesting observation." Tayber said.

"I can´t recall who told me but it must someone alive to the see the primarchs with their own eyes at some point." Derik let his mind wander. _It must have been an ancient Astartes._

"Think the same could be said for their sons?"

Derik looked at Tayber for a quick moment before he answered. If it weren´t for the spirit running in his blood, he would have felt a cold pulse running across his body. "Definitely. Each of them may be unique and nowhere as extreme as I imagine their gene-fathers, but they all carry the same strengths and flaws. Just not amplified to the same degree."

"But from what I hear of the Sisters, they have their own flaws."

Taybers remark gave Derik a slight chuckle. "Maybe." _But at least they are more willing to obey._

"If I had my way we would disregard those made of weak and corruptible flesh." Tayber said. "Only those blessed by the Machine Spirit should be allowed to approach or touch the STC."

 _Why do those words sound so familiar?_ Derik decided not to remark on it. The irony was amusing but only to himself. And what had come of it was to grim to for him to laugh at. _I´ve drunk to much, or too little._

"Tell me then," Derik said. "tech-priest, what will you do when a demon of the Warp stares down into your eyes? Think of it, your worst fears made flesh, standing in front of you. As it touches you, you can feel it burning in places that are made of cold steel. As it stares at you, you can feel it running down your eye-lenses, gazing into the depths of your soul. Tell me, tech-priest, when that happens. What will you do?"

Tayber sat perfectly still. The room got so quiet that Derik could hear the clicking joints and cogs coming from under the tech-priest´s robes.

"Goodbye, Lord Inquisitor." Tayber said and left the room.

Once he was alone again, Derik took out the bottle and poured himself a shallow glass.

 _I´ve had enough._ He tilted the glass and let the liquir spill out over the floor. 


	24. Chapter 21

The black rose chapter 21

The sheaths of her bed wrinkled as she folded her arms and legs towards her chest. She felt cold, despite the heater humming at the foot of the bed. She pulled the sheath over her head but still felt the chill biting her skin.

 _Why?_ Johana thought. _Why do I feel the way that I do? Why do I love my own sister?_

Emma may not have been her sister in blood, but she was her sister in faith. Her sister in the eyes of the Emperor. Some of his own sons may have betrayed him but those pure of faith did not.

 _But how can I be pure of faith? Am I just as tainted as the heretics that held this fortress._

The thoughts kept hounding her. She wanted to close her eyes. She wanted the world to fade away, she wanted it to turn into a black, gentle void. But every time she let her eyelids fall, they opened. Anytime she managed to push her thoughts of Emma aside, new vicious images flashed before her eyes. The blood flowing from the Maid´s throat, Emma´s face folded and twisted with sorrow, the darkness that engulfed her when the trench collapsed and the terrible silence that followed. Like mad, starving wolves they chewed at her mind, giving her no chance of relief. She had to escape, and she rushed back to Emma and the night they slept next to each other. She remembered Emma´s soft arms wrapping around her.

Then her mind snapped back to what she was thinking.

 _Emperor…_ Johana prayed. _I remember the promise. The task that was given to me. I have not lost my way, I wish to become your favored champion. Even if I must give my life, I would gladly do so. But I can´t hide what I feel. I cannot deny what I want. Emperor, I beg you, send me a sing._

She stopped and listened.

The only thing she could hear was the machine buzzing.

She waited a little longer.

The machine hummed.

Johana covered her face with her hands.

" _You will rise and burn._ "Those where the final words of the Maiden.

 _She was wrong._ Johana pushed her hands into her face to the point she could fell the air being stopped from entering her lungs.

 _I am only burning._ Out of reflex she pulled her hands away from her face and felt the air rushing down her throat. _Only burning._

Her left hand moved down her belly. Her right hand grasped her breast as her legs started spreading.

It felt cold at first. Icy almost. Then she started rubbing herself and after just a few moments she felt it warming up.

She moaned.

And then it started feeling moist, wet.

 _No, not again._ Johana thought under frantic breaths. Her fingers crawled inside of her and started tickling the soft, warm flesh inside.

Quickly, every bit of doubt disappeared. The sensation drowned them as her fingers began to thrust back and forth between her legs.

* * *

The night air was dim and icy as Emma wandered the barracks of the fortress. Even with her armor, the chill fiercely bit her exposed cheeks and nose. Little puffs of white smoke pulsed from under her nose only to quickly dissolve into the air.

 _Why did I tell her?_ Emma thought. The truth about her past had been a secret she had hidden for a long time. She was always worried that one of the Sisters, or even worse the Canoness would somehow find out. But in the end, she told Johana willingly.

 _Why?_ Emma beckoned the question. But she couldn´t find an answer. The reasons still puzzled her as much as it had the last three hours of patrol. But it was something strange about telling someone about it. In the moment, it felt horrible to be reminded, to relive those memories. To see her mother´s face again and the face of her son.

Emma placed a hand on her stomach.

But later it felt a little different. Like the pressure had been eased of somehow, just a little bit. Thinking about it still turned her blood to ice and made her eyes water, but not as much as before.

Emma rubbed her eyes and drew a long sigh. She watched the fog coming from her mouth slowly wash away in the black night, as if it was being slowly swallowed by the darkness.

Turning back to face the front of the fortress, Emma looked out across the field she, her sisters and the Imperial guard had fought across. She watched at the little islands of orange that rose up in the sea of pitch blackness. From where she was standing, she couldn´t make out any soldiers on the ground, only the bonfires the troopers had made to keep themselves warm.

The Canoness had been quick to forbid the Imperial guard from entering the fortress when she saw the Maiden´s body.

"Anyone not pure of faith that dares to enter this holy fortress will face the Emperor´s wrath!" The Canoness bellowed before the shattered gate.

Since that was said, none of the Imperial guard had even dared to come close to the gate, even if it was completely shattered and left in disarray.

Emma rested her arms on the walls barracks. She pushed a lock of hair behind her ear and rested her chin in her palm. She then looked up in the sky, to the little blinking white lights above her.

A loud humming came from the sky. Before Emma had any time to find out what caused it she felt blow of air pushing down on her.

When she looked up, there was shape of yellow burning lights running across the black sky.

She glanced to her side and saw one of her sisters running along the wall. Running towards her.

"Emma!" Anna´s voice shouted.

"What´s going on?"

"The Canoness sent me. Every sister is to gather in the courtyard."

"Why?" Emma asked. "And who´s coming?"

"The Inquisitor."


	25. Chapter 22

The black rose chapter 22

The ship´s pistons hissed and released beams of vapor as the platform lowered. One of the puffs of steam blew straight into Derik´s face, causing him to flinch in reaction. The beam stopped just as quickly as it had started and now the Inquisitor could finally see the Sisters of the Hawk. With the hand hidden under his folded arms, Derik clutched his coat. The Sister at the front was clad in black power armor. Bright, fiery orange robes attached to her armor flapped wildly in the ship´s still blowing jet engines. Her left hand was wrapped around the handle of her sheathed sword. Noticing her weapon, Derik was reminded that he had left his own sword back on the ship.

Looking down from the platform, Derik tried studying the Sister. Her face was hidden behind a helmet and she seemed stiff as a statue while glaring back at him with red, glowing visors. Though there were other things he could read from her.

 _She´s the one to face the Inquisitor._ Derik noted. _The Inquisitor who gave the orders to have them fight alongside the Imperial guard._

He took a slow breath and started wandering forth. After just a few steps he could see the sisters gathered behind the first one. Ranks upon ranks of Sisters armed with everything from heavy bolters to lightning claws. In the sea of black helmets bathed in the night's darkness, Derik could only manage to make out a few faces. Some were frowning at him. Others were smiling, though subtly, so none of their sisters would notice.

Derik reached the base of the platform and stood face to face with the sister. His brown eyes staring unflinchingly into the beaming, blood red slits.

"Sisters of the Hawk." Derik bowed, breaking his gaze with the sister. "It as honor to finally meet you in person."

She scoffed.

"Do you know what your orders have caused?" The sister said.

"I know what happened." Derik looked back up at her.

"And yet you dare to come here." The hand holding the sword flexed.

"You have a fine sword there." Derik quickly glanced down the pommel of the sword. A finely crafted thing, flawlessly round without any bumps. _Hope that it doesn´t slam into my face._ Derik joked to himself.

"It has taken the life´s of more heretics than you can imagine."

 _She doubtlessly knows what will happened if she raised that blade to me._ Derik thought. _But now she seems more eager to draw blood then act with any sense._

"Soon that blade might kill the most while traitors of the Imperium." Derik said.

The grip on the sword loosened. "What do you mean?"

"The heretics that held this fortress, there nothing compared to what's coming."

"Quit talking in riddles." She snapped. "Tell us what´s coming."

"A black crusade." Derik said.

For a moment, a silence fell over the courtyard before the Sisters started chattering between each other.

"What?" She asked with her hand now only leaning on the sword.

Derik just threw her a knowing look.

"There´s no black crusade coming." The fingers wrapped around the sword grip again. "We´d know about it."

"So, Alfred´s not told you." Derik remarked with a grin growing on his face.

For a moment, she broke her gaze with the Inquisitor. If her eyes weren´t hidden behind a helmet, Derik assumed they would be shrinking and darting from the left to the right.

"How long as he known?" She asked.

"I told him about it as soon as I arrived." Derik replied. "But he doubted that you would ever be necessary in the battle to come."

The crowd started chattering again. This time they were louder than before.

She silenced them with a single gesture of her hand. "You still ordered us to fight alongside the Imperial guard. We followed those orders."

 _And now the Maiden is dead._ She did not say it, but Derik could tell she just stopped herself from doing it.

"What happened to Maiden was a tragedy." Derik said.

"And punishment must be dealt for it." She said before Derik could continue.

"To the Imperial guard?" Derik let the tone of his voice be raised slightly. "To the men who fought and died valiantly to complete your quest?"

One of the sisters stepped forward once Derik had finished. Her left arm was resting in a harness tied around her neck. She looked at Derik with normal eye and a red, mechanical eye.

"He´s right." The injured sororita said to her sister. "The Imperial guard showed zeal and fury beyond what most of us where expecting. Without them we would never had captured this fort. They have done nothing to warrant punishment."

"Now your place, Galatea." Her sister snapped.

The injured sister glared back at her for a moment before backing down. "As you wish, Canoness."

Despite her words, the sisters started chatting between themselves again. When they didn´t immediately go silent at her gesture, the Canoness turned.

"If we hadn't followed his orders the Maiden would still be alive!" She roared.

"You still followed them." Galatea said.

The Canoness drew her hand back and punched Galatea in her left shoulder. The force of the punch was enough to send Galatea staggering to the ground. The Canoness was about to land another blow on her when Derik caught her arm.

"Have you sunken so low that you beat your own sisters for telling the truth?" Derik said as the Canoness snapped her arm out of his grip.

"Are you really the Sisters of the Hawk?" Derik proclaimed, loudly, so that the courtyard could hear. "Are you the legendary Sisters of Battle guarding the borders of the Eye of Terror?"

"How dare you?" The Canoness said, her voice thick with contempt.

Derik folded his arms over his chest and slowly turned to face the Canoness. "Because I´m not seeing them." He said. "That is how I dare."

Even with her head hidden behind a helmet, Derik could hear the grunt as the Canoness inhaled.

"Please forgive us, holy Inquisitor." Galatea said, kneeling at Derik´s side.

He placed a hand on the Palatine´s shoulder and smiled.

"It was because of the taint of the Imperial guard that the Maiden killed herself!" A voice shouted.

Derik turned to see a sister with silvery white hair stepping forward. Her neck was visibly repaired with crude wires burrowing in and out of her throat.

"Where you there?" Derik asked. "Did you see what happened?"

"Did you?" The silver haired sister´s voice crackled.

"No. But I know who did." Derik looked over the crowd. "Emma and Johana of the Talons! Step forth!"

For a moment, the sisters were silent. Then Derik could hear someone pushing themselves between the sisters. Two Sisters of the Hawk stepped forth. One had bright blond, golden hair and blue eyes. Apart from a scar on her cheek, Derik couldn´t help but notice that she was quite beautiful. The other had brown eyes, a little brighter than his own and dark hair, almost black when compared to the other.

The yellow haired sister drew her sword rested on it as she kneeled before Derik. "I am Emma of the Talons, holy Inquisitor."

The other sister did the same. "I am Johana of the Talons, holy Inquisitor."

"Rise sisters." Derik urged them up.

When both were standing before him, Derik could get a better look at them. He took a quick look into Emma´s eyes before looking over at Johana. When he looked over her, he recognized the features of her face but found it difficult to place them.

"You were the ones to find the Maiden?" Derik asked.

"Yes." Emma answered with a nod.

"What happened?"

"She just stood there." Johana said. "Blood on her arms and hands." The tone of her voice sank with her head.

"She said she heard howls." Emma stepped in. "Screams, that they were drowning her."

"Was that all?" Derik asked.

"She said we would rise and burn."

In a quick moment, the crowd went silent. They stared at the Inquisitor and then themselves. Chattering erupted again.

Derik folded his arm and chewed gently on the inside of his lip. _Insane ramblings by an untrained psyker only seeing the horrors of the warp._

"Where do you want to come with this, Inquisitor?" The augmented sister asked, her voice crackling again.

Derik looked over the sisters and quickly drummed his fingers. "I suspect that something else might have been the cause of the Maiden´s suicide." _Something that might anger you further once you find out._

"What?"

"Something that I am not going to share until I have the facts to confirm it." Derik said and took a swallow. "Too confirm it I am going to have to see the Maiden´s body."

"Impossible." The Canoness said. "She is to be buried. Burned by holy flames and released to the Emperor´s mercy."

"I merely have to observe the body." Derik let the tone of his voice soften. "It will not take longer than an hour and then we might be able to know who is truly to blame for what happened."

The Canoness looked at Derik and for once he wasn´t able to guess what was going on under the helmet.

"No more than an hour?" The Canoness asked.

"Provided that I am not disturbed. Once I am done I will have the body prepared for the pyre."

The Canoness turned back to the crowd. She looked over at Emma and Johana and glanced over at Galatea.

"Do it." The Canoness said.

* * *

With the body draped in a plastic coat and lying on slab of cold metal, Derik prepared himself. He had washed his hands and pulled on a pair of tightfitting, rubber glows. The rest of his upper body was covered by a coat made of similar material. Normally he would have someone more specialized with him but time of was short. Thankfully it was a relatively uncomplicated thing he was planning to do. He had already taken a blood sample for analysis but wanted to see if there were more things to confirm his theory. He had a simple medical servitor to help him with this.

Derik pulled back the sheet revealed the Maiden´s body. She was ghastly pale and thin. Her skin was almost snow white apart from the dark, crimson gash in her neck.

 _They´ve cleaned of the blood._ Derik noted. _Good. Makes it simpler for me._

He pulled back the closed eyelids and leaned in close to get a better look at her eyes.

 _Pale. Just like her skin._ He rolled the ball around a little bit to get a look at the backside of it.

 _Nothing unusual._ He looked over to the other eye and got the same results. Derik sighed and noticed something above her eyes. In the middle of her forehead. A little bump. He put two fingers on it and felt them depress somewhat as he pressed down, though it still gave some resistance.

"Cut a circular shape into the frontal bone." Derik told the servitor. "Make sure not to damage the brain."

The quiet, almost statue like servitor came to live and put a short buzz saw against the Maiden´s forehead. With one stiff motion, the machine slave performed the cut.

"Step back." Taking a short breath, Derik used a scalpel to remove the bone and expose the grey-pink brain matter beneath. He pushed his fingers into the soft brain matter. It felt cold through his gloves and produced a wet sucking sound as he touched it.

Then between he felt something hard, tough only comparably. Derik smiled, though he feelt his excitement quickly muted, Derik took a pair of forceps and reached into the brain.

What the Inquisitor pulled out was black, shimmering orb, no larger than a pebble and connected to the brain via a still pink fleshy thread.

 _Hmm…_ Derik put the little orb on a clean plate and took a bottle of clear spirit to wash it off. Once it was clean,he put it clear glass bottle and sealed. With the orb in front of him and the body behind him, Derik reviewed the evidence.

 _An untrained psyker, also cursed with an underdeveloped Warp eye. She was not only hearing the screams of the Warp, but she might have also seen visions of it._ He looked back at Maiden's body. _Poor thing. Not only living this close to the Eye of Terror but burdened with both these curses. Almost make me surprised she didn´t end it sooner._

He closed her eyes and pulled the sheath over her. The Inquisitor reached to scratch the back of his head but stopped himself when he remembered that his gloves where covered in half dried blood. He pulled the gloves of before taking the coat of and tossing both aside.

 _By the Emperor._ Derik tilted his head back to the point of feeling the skin beneath his jaw stretching. _How do I explain this to the Sisters?_

He looked back down at the body. Despite being covered, Derik could still see the outline of the corpse lying in front of him.

"Embalm her and prepare her for the pyre."


	26. Chapter 23

The black rose chapter 23

The pyre stood ready in the great hall of the fortress. Rows upon rows of sisters filled the cathedral. Every single one of them dressed in plain, cream-white robes. The palatines and their sister superiors stood closest to the pyre with their heads wrapped in hoods, leaving only their faces exposed. They were standing facing the pyre, their eyes closed as they prayed. The sisters behind them where kneeling, their fingers slowly twirling the beads around their necks. Apart from their little mutterings, the hall completely was silent.

Standing next to the pyre was the Canoness. Unlike the other sisters, she was still dressed in her black armor with a book attached via its spine to her waist through a thick chain. Her left hand was resting on the hilt of her sword, the other held a burning torch, made of the same black metal has her armor. The promethium flames crowning it where guarded by a grid whose edges where glowing orange.

The doors to the great hall started groaning. The moment after they slowly moved aside, paving the wave for the Inquisitor. With one hard push, he pressed both doors wide open. He made a small grunt and adjusted his coat before proceeding. Four sisters followed him, each of them dressed in the same robes as the other sisters. Between them they carried the Maiden on a platform made out of the same golden-brown wood as the pyre. The Maiden´s body was wrapped in white cloth, her arms crossed over her chest and a feather of made of a silvery metal placed on her forehead.

Derik looked over the Sisters of the Hawk as he slowly paced forward, but the moment he noticed her, his gaze locked with the Canoness´. As he walked forward for almost a solid minute, the Inquisitor´s eyes never flinched away from the Canoness. As he reached the pyre, Derik walked up beside the Canoness and looked out over the Sisters of the Hawk as they place the Maiden on the pyre. Even now he could feel the Canoness staring at him.

The sisters carrying the Maiden joined their ranks and the silence fell over the hall again. For almost a solid minute, the hall was so quiet that one could hear the little steps of a mouse running across the stone floor.

The silence broke by the rattling of a chain. The Canoness took the book from her belt and skillfully opened it with one hand. She looked at the yellow pages. Their edges were torn and crumbling in some bits, with some cracks reaching for the center of the pages. But where the parchment remained the text itself was clear.

"By the blood of the Hawk," The Canoness began. "We are strong. By the Emperor´s blessing, we are chosen. By our faith, we are pure." She turned a page over. "By these virtues, we are the Sisters of the Hawk. We started this quest moons ago, mere weeks after the heretics revealed themselves." She looked up from the book and threw a quick glance at the Inquisitor. "Now we stand here; mourning the death of the sacred Maiden of Astryoa. She chose to end her own life, leaving only a cryptic prophecy yet to be transcribed. As it is written in the Lectitio Divinitatus, the one who has nothing still as their life to give. The Maiden chose to surrender hers, an act the Emperor will never look kindly on. Now, as we surrender her to the holy flames and give her to Emperor´s grace, we must pray. Pray that the Emperor looks kindly on the woman he blessed with purity. Only faith and fire can safeguard her soul."

" _Fire purges._ " The sisters chanted.

"Fire cleanses." The Canoness replied and closed the book. She let it fall back to her side and walked over with to the pyre. Gently, she let the flames of the torch touch the pyre. Within less than a minute, flames spread across the pyre and engulfed the Maiden´s body. A thick black pillar started rising form crackling wood. A soft musky scent started filling the hall only to be mixed with the stench of charring meat and burning fat.

Turbines in the walls and roof started turning, channeling the air away and releasing the smoke. Soon the rotating machines started forming a loud hum.

Derik struggled not to cough, even with the turbines working to clean the air. His eyes started watering and he blinked a few times out of reflex.

The Canoness stood firm and unmoving. Holding the torch in one hand and grasping her sword with the other.

The sisters in the ranks where just as stoic as their canoness. None of them opened their eyes, none of them coughed or sneered at the scent that filled the hall. At least, none that either the Canoness or the Inquisitor could see.

When the pyre finally went out, the Canoness walked over to the blackened skeleton that remained. Its arms and legs had folded inwards, leaving the Maiden´s body looking like it was twisted in pain. The Canoness placed the torch next to the Maiden and turned back to the sisters.

"Now we will mourn." She said.

"And learn." Derik added.

* * *

"What have you learned, Inquisitor?" The Canoness asked.

"That my suspicion is probably correct."

"Can you tell me what your suspicion is now?"

Derik pulled his hand over the back of his head and slowly dragged it down, feeling the parts of his neck where stubble had taken hold. "I think it´s likely that the Maiden did not chose to kill herself because of the Imperial guard."

"Why did she do it then?" The Canoness´ voice hardened. "What caused her to end her own life in front of my sisters?"

The Inquisitor closed his hand and flexed his fingers. His eyes shifted from the left to the right, never stopping to focus.

"I cannot confirm it yet." Derik said.

"Again, with your words and games." The Canoness growled. " _Just tell me_."

"The Maiden may have been a psyker." Derik admitted.

The Canoness stared at him, looking baffled despite her face being covered. "What are you saying?"

"One of the sisters that found the Maiden experienced a powerful migraine. I suspect this may have been because of her being exposed to the Warp energies that would have been radiating from the Maiden. The Maiden herself could reportedly absorb the taint of Chaos."

"Are you saying that the Emperor's chosen would chose to end her life because of the gifts she was granted?"

Derik paused for a moment. He bit down on the inside of his cheek to the point of it breaking. "I think the gifts the Emperor granted the Maiden may have made her a target for the horrors of the Warp. Though I suspect that the Maiden may not have been aware of the nature of her gifts."

"You are saying that the Maiden was actually a mutant?"

"I am suspecting it. I cannot say for sure what she was at this point."

"And when will you?" The Canoness said as her voice snapped into a stiff tone.

"When a blood sample I collected from the Maiden is analyzed. If we can see her genes, we can determine what abilities she had."

"You took her blood?"

"I had to." Derik swallowed. "In order to be certain."

"And what if you are correct?"

"If I am correct, and assuming that the Maiden probably didn´t know she was a psyker, she probably thought she had a blessing from the Emperor as she could absorb the taint of Chaos. But as she got older, her psychic abilities would have become stronger. To the point where Warp predators would have started taking notice. Eventually she would have been hunted. Every moment of her life, screams and howls would have been following her."

"Then why did she kill herself now?" The Canoness asked. "Why not ten years ago, why not when the predators started hunting her?"

"Canoness," Derik said. "You know what the Warp is, you know how it works. When trapped in a fortress under siege, filled with the wrath and fury of your sisters, what do you think the Maiden would have heard, what you do you think she would have seen?"

The Canoness went silent. She folded her arms and stared down at the floor.

"Once your sisters have grieved, we can march with the Imperial guard and put an end to this war. Then you will join me in fighting of the black crusade."

"How do you even know it's coming?" The Canoness said. "The Despoiler has tried to break through the Cadian gate twelve times, and he has failed every single time."

Derik grunted and rubbed his eye. This was the exact same argument that Alfred had presented to him.

"I cannot say anything for certain." Derik admitted. "But the risk is far too great and the consequences, should the Despoiler succeed, far too grave to be ignored."

The Canoness turned away from the Inquisitor's gaze.

"If you hurry up and join the Imperial guard now, we can have this conflict at an end."

"Hurry?" The Canoness snorted. "Do you know how many of my warriors have died in the quest to save her? We are not just grieving for the Maiden, we are grieving for our fallen sisters."

"My apologies." Derik said, bowing. "But the fact of the matter still remains, if you do not act more sisters will fall."

"You want me to disrespect my dead sisters and the Maiden?" The Canoness took a few steps towards the Inquisitor. "To tell them to fight in their hour of grief?"

"I am not trying to offend you or your sisters." Derik said. "I am trying to give you a chance. A chance to fight alongside the Emperor´s angels."

"You mean the Adeptus Astartes?"

"Yes."

She stared at Derik for a few moments. "Last time you gave me an order, I accepted it. I did it without question. And now we stand here, the fortress taken, the heretics fallen, and the Maiden dead by her own hand. What are you giving me now? And order or an offer?"

"An offer." Derik said.

"Coward." The Canoness snapped.

Derik´s brows jumped to the middle of his forehead.

"Do you think words and promises will make me obey you?" Her voice was almost a growl at this point. "I obeyed you once, and now the Emperor has punished us for it."

"Canoness, I-"

"Get out!" She shouted. "Go back to your ship and send the guardsmen away with you!"

The Inquisitor stood still. He took a deep breath, letting his chest rise before sinking with a slow sigh. He blinked once and turned. He was about to open the door when he stopped himself. He looked over his shoulder and stared back at the Canoness.

The Canoness was about to say something when the Inquisitor simply braced out the door.

Outside and alone, Derik cursed to himself. "I must convince them."


	27. Chapter 24

The black rose chapter 24

The hairs stung as she dragged the brush through it. Little cracks came from under the brush every time a hair broke, and they broke often. The amount of hair that gathered between the brushes' teeth was so thick that Emma had to stop every few strokes to clean out the hairs and toss the hairs into the little pyre next to her bed. After what seemed like a half hour, Emma just grunted and tossed the brush aside.

 _What´s the point?_ She asked herself. _No one but me cares anyway._

Emma threw herself back into the bed and let her arms roll out from her chest. She stared blankly at the roof as the cold started biting into her exposed arms.

 _Mourn?_ Emma thought back to the burial of the Maiden. She knew what she should feel. She should feel shame, guilt even. They failed their mission. The Maiden is dead. Some of the sister had felt an incredible remorse for this failure. Melina under Sophia of the Wings and a few others from the same company had chosen to take the Oath of Repentence, stripping themselves of their armor and ranks and flagellated themselves.

"We have brought shame on our order." Melina said, kneeling naked with four sisters from the Wings before the Canoness. "We beg your forgiveness, holy canoness."

"Your sins and deeds are not for me to forgive." The Canoness replied. "Only the Emperor himself may grant you redemption." She presented them with a whip. It was a short thing, the ropes no longer then Emma´s forearm, but every string was notched with sharp, metallic squares. "Will you take the oath?"

Melina took the whip in her hands and looked at it. Her fingers flexed around the handle.

"We will." She said and snapped the whip across her back. The notches on the strings clipped through her skin. The sound of it was enough to make Emma wince. Melina staggered after the first strike. At first there where only red little dots where the notches had struck, but soon they grew into little red beads. Soon after they became crimson fingers running down her back. Melina clutched her shoulder and looked up at the Canoness. After a few ragged breaths, Melina cracked the whip across the other side of her back. Her arm started to tremble like she was freezing, but Melina kept her grip and looked back up at the Canoness.

The Canoness gave her a stern look.

Melina cracked the whip again. And again. And again. Until her back was slick with blood and sweat.

"That´s enough." The Canoness said and took the whip away from Melina to give it to one of the other sisters.

The hall was then filled with the sound of whips cracking across soft skin. The short breaks where filled by gasping breaths and the sound of blood smacking into the floor.

When the Canoness took the whip of the final sister, it was coated in blood. The metal and leather drenched in thick crimson.

"You have surrendered yourself for redemption." The Canoness said. "You will abandon your weapons and armor. Only two things will protect you now. The first is your faith." She turned to present her back to Melina and returned with a chainsword, though it was larger than any chainsword Emma had ever seen before. It was at least the length of the Canoness and width of her legs. The teeth of it where big as well. Massive, curled things that looked like they had once been inside the maw of some giant beast. The metal that made the sword was jet black like their armor.

"The second is this." The Canoness said, holding the weapon before Melina with its tip leaning on the ground. "The eviscerator."

Emma stared at the weapon. It was hard to believe that any normal human would ever be able to carry such a massive sword, let alone wield it. She opened her mouth to say something, but the words stopped at her tongue. She could feel her fingers twitching, but she could also feel her legs straining. She closed her mouth and nervously pushed a lock of hair behind her ear.

Melina rose. With blood still dripping of her back and her arms trembling she grasped the eviscerator´s grip. Leaning on it, she made the final push to stand straight and look the Canoness in the eye.

"Show me your strength." The Canoness said.

Melina flipped her hand and let the sword fall towards her, almost making her trip in the process. Gasping and screaming, she tried to lift it. At first the tip would barely rise of the ground, merely hovering a few centimeters above it. Under the thick stream of blood running from her wounds, Emma could see the muscles exposed on Melina´s back. They shivered and strained like they were being pulled apart.

" _Aaaaiiieegghhh!_ " Melina screamed.

 _She´s going to fall._ Emma though, forcing herself not to flinch before the Canoness.

But then the sword was suddenly above Melina´s head. With her eyes closed and her body trembling, Melina had succeeded. And then the weapon crashed headfirst into the ground as it slipped from her fingers. Melina staggered, almost looking like she was kneeling before the Canoness again.

The Canoness picked the weapon up again with her left hand and raised Melina´s chin with the other.

Still heaving for breath, Melina meet the Canoness´ eyes.

"Your oath is now taken." She let Melina fall and passed the sword onto the other sister.

 _Mourn?_ Emma thought again in the bed. She pushed a hand through her hair, feeling her golden yellow strings giving way to her somewhat dry fingers. _I should have wanted to join them. I should have taken the oath myself. I was there when the Maiden died._

She rolled over, resting her head in her hand. _Why didn´t I? I am tainted. I have been tainted since the day I left and joined the Sisters of the Hawks. I have sinned. I have lied about my past. Why, by the Emperor´s grace, did I not join them?_

The questions kept running through her mind. She rolled back and forth in the bed for a few minutes. Then she remembered the boy she killed. Even with her arm feeling cold just thinking about it, Emma couldn't recall his face. None of his features or the color of his eyes. Only the sound of the sword cutting through his flesh and feeling of his blood splattering across her face.

 _Just like my son,_ Emma thought. _He was pure. Untainted. He now rests with the Emperor. The Emperor protects my son. I will join him one day._ Emma promised. _I will become worthy entering the Emperor´s grace and see my son again._

* * *

The water dripped of the sponge as Johana rubbed it up and down the length of her armor. Thick clutches of bubbles grew out of it every time she squeezed it. She gave it a twist with her hands to push the last of water out of it before drowning it in bucket filled to the brim with foam-covered water. With her fingers wrinkly and the arms of her robes soaked, Johana took the sponge to the armor again. She whipped it back and forth to the point she could hear the metal squeaking.

"Don´t scrub it so hard." A voice behind her said. "You´ll wear the color of."

Johana looked behind her and saw Emma standing in the entrance to the armor barracks. She was dressed in the same robes as Johana with her hair hanging loose to spread wildly across her shoulders. When Johana first saw her sister, she felt cold. The fingers wrapped around the sponge started digging in. She quickly turned back to her armor and kept scrubbing it.

"Feeling any better?" Emma asked, failing to hide the discomfort in her voice.

Johana tried to answer. But nothing came. She just stared at her armor as the bubbles started slowly running across the black metal in white clumps.

Behind her, Johana could hear foot steeps. Emma was walking towards her. Johana felt a hard lump growing in her throat and burn throbbing in her chest as the steps came closer. Before she realized it, Emma was standing next to her.

"I…" Emma said. "I shouldn´t have put my burden on your shoulders."

"You already knew what I´ve done." Johana replied while scrubbing her armor. "Though my sin is far more grievous." Her voice was almost devoid of emotion.

"No, it´s not." Emma shook her head. "What you did was a simple mistake. What I done… I´ve lied to all of my sisters for more than ten years. I swore, upon taking my oaths, that I was untouched. I´ve lied before the Emperor himself."

"It wasn´t a simple mistake." Johana said, squeezing the sponge.

"What do you mean?" Emma asked, perplexed.

"I was a gift to the order from a noble house." Johana said. "I was given a task on my birth. I was tasked to become a champion of the Emperor. It was my only wish. Now I´m tainted. I can never become that now." Johana´s brows folded down as she felt the lump in her throat growing thicker.

"A simple mistake…" Emma said, angered and stunned by the words. She muttered something that Johana couldn´t hear. "Then we´ve both already failed."

Johana was about to ask about what she couldn´t hear but stopped herself. She just nodded in agreement. "We have."

"Then what´s comes next?"

"I…" Johana paused. "Only one thing."

They stood silently next to each other, staring at the empty armor sets before them.


	28. Chapter 25

The black rose chapter 25

The young general walked across the bridge. Unrelenting rain made his coat heavy and cold to wear. He felt his skin prickle with goosebumps. He pushed the papers beneath his arm closer to his side and tried hurrying along. Though he was accompanied by five members of the Adeptus Arbites, all of them taller and broader then him, Corey always felt like someone or something was watching him, looking for the perfect moment to strike. Part of that fear was not unfounded. Pict-feeds where placed all over the capital. Always keeping at least one eye on whoever might be walking through the streets.

As they came to the end of the bridge and entered the street, the Arbites pushed anyone who might be slowing them down out of the young general´s path. Corey noticed several tech-adepts and tech-priests working on some kind of tubes running up the walls of towers and living compartments. Yellow sparks flew from the tools of the Mechanicus as they carefully regarded their work from their thick hoods. A child walked up to one of the tech-priests to get a closer look when the machine-cleric turned to face the boy. His face turned white before he ran crying back to his mother.

Corey tore them from his mind and walked up to a massive staircase leading to the cathedral at the center and peak of the capital. It was always swarming with people, like rats coming to feast on the carcass of a massive beast. Not even the thick rain could slow the tide of people down. Just by a quick glance Corey estimated that there must have been hundreds of believers between him and the gate. The Arbites following him, armed with suppression shields and power mauls started pushing and shoving people away to make room for the young general. On more than one occasion the Arbites in front decided to use blunt force to clear those who refused to move, usually resulting in the person having at least one limb broken, or their head caved in. By the time they reached the cathedral almost all of the Arbites black uniforms where splattered with blood, even if most of it just washed away in the rain.

The general opened a panel next to the gate and entered a code. A hatchet above opened, and a servo-skull came hovering out of it.

"General Corey Ironfield." He stated while looking straight into the skull´s zooming red eye.

The servo-skull gave of a few satisfied clicks and went back into its little hatchet. A door the size of normal person opened the gate and woman covered in white robes stepped out.

"I´m here to see Alfred." Corey said. "He is expecting me."

"Of course general. Follow me." The woman said, leading Corey and his Arbites into the cathedral.

Inside, the cathedral was almost empty. Only half a dozen where praying before the altar. All of them well dressed and well-spoken nobles. As Corey followed the sister, he could hear the Arbites whispering their own prayers.

"Is he available now?" Corey asked the sister.

"Soon, general." She replied. "Soon."

"Very well." Corey sighed. "We will perform our prayers while we wait."

The sister put her hands on her chest and performed a courteous bow. "I will return when the governor has finished his duties."

Corey walked up to one of the benches and sat down. The Arbites did not dare wander to close to the altar. Corey himself felt uncomfortable wandering up so close to it. Not because of the altar, but because of the nobles staring at him as he wandered forth. The time he had spent in comfort with his father and mother seemed like an eternity ago. When his sister was born, things changed so quickly. His father had always been stern and uncompromising, but after that he was far worse than ever before. He made sure that Corey spent eight hours every day learning how to read, how to write, who was who, who mattered, who didn´t matter, how he should guide troops, how to best deploy his troops, how he should behave before other nobles. Lectures he found tedious and unrelenting. The time he didn´t spent being lectured, his father made sure he learned how to shoot and of to fight. At first, he tried to escape or run away every chance he got, but his father was quick to catch him and give him a harsh lesson on why he should always obey. It was a time that Corey did not have many fond memories of. When his father got too weak to teach him, he made sure that another teacher took his place. To Corey´s surprise, this man was far leaner and compromising then his father. The old colonel would still give him a hard smack every time he noticed Corey looking away but in comparison to his father, Garius Lup was practically a gift from the Emperor. But when he was finally granted his position as first general of the planetary defense forces, Corey saw more than a few eyes sneering at him. Both nobles and commanders alike found him wanting in the role, and Corey himself found it difficult not to blame them, even at the best of times.

He rubbed his eyes and looked towards the altar. A magnificent thing, carved out of cream colored marble with strings of gold and silver running across it in shimmering rivers, it showed the Emperor crowning the martyred Lady. She kneeled before him, her wings folded and her head hanging low. The Emperor held the crown in his hand with a stern gaze in his eyes, looking like the marble might at any moment crack, releasing him so he could place the crown on the Lady´s temple.

"Holy Emperor." Corey prayed. "The Inquisitor tells me that a black crusade is coming and that your chosen Maiden may have been a psyker." He lowered his voice to make sure that no one but the Emperor would hear him. "I beg of you, send a sign. Send us help." He leaned on his folded fingers. "Grant me guidance."

The hall was silent. Behind the closed gates, Corey could hear the banging of people trying desperately to enter.

For a moment, the young general felt like tearing the gates open, to let everyone feel the Emperor´s light.

 _No._ He subtly shook his head as it was resting on his hands. _Grant one of them access and they´ll all want it. They'll swarm in here, like rats and tear the entire cathedral down to the ground._

"General." The soft voice of woman said.

Corey lifted his head to find the sister standing next to him.

"He is ready to receive you now." She said.

"Good." He rose from the chair and told the Arbites to be at ease until he came back. _If they can even do that._

The sister led him through the same corridors and halls that Corey had wandered down a hundred times. The fact that a sister of Alfred´s chosen always had to be with those who wandered here still made him raise a brow.

She led him up a stair into a hall greater than the one below, though this one was almost completely empty apart from the rare sister in robes. The roof of this hall was covered by a lavishly painting that Corey had yet to see matched. He still had to take a moment to look up at it and admire the beautiful colors and masterful brush strokes.

Some curios clicking noise came from the end of the hall. Corey turned and saw what caused it. It was tech-priest, dressed in the same thick robes as his kin but much, much taller than anyone else in the cathedral. He walked forward on four stalked, pin-like legs that gave him the movement of a spider. Only lacking any of the grace or subtly of those creatures. The legs put at least a meter above Corey and gave him a certain complacent look. When Corey looked at the tech-priest, an eye lens protruding from his back stared right back at him with a few eager clicks. The tech-priest stopped and hurried over to the young general.

"General Ironfield." The tech-priest said when he was in front of him. "A pleasure to make your acquaintance."

"Do I know you?" Just by the nature of his augments, Corey knew that the tech-priest must be of some status, so he kept his voice reserved.

"Not directly. I am Lepario Domani."

The name immediately jumped to Corey´s mind. "Domani? The Domani who refined the promethium formula used by the Sisters of the Hawk?"

"The very same." He replied, his augments jittering. "I knew a man of your status would be familiar with my achievements."

"But what are you doing here?" Corey asked. Lepario Domani was notorious for being reclusive and rarely, if ever leaving his lab.

"The Governor send for me." Lepario answered and Corey knew that was all the tech-priest was going to share.

"Regardless of that, do you have some important matter you wish to discuss with me?" Alfred was not a man you left waiting, so Corey let the tone of his voice hint at the irritation bubbling underneath.

"Just staring at a ghost."

"I´m not dead."

"No, forgive me lord general." Lepario bowed, though it only brought him closer Corey´s head. "But you look a lot like your father. Shame that´s the only thing about you that reminds me of him." The tech-priest started backing of. "Goodbye, general Ironfield."

Corey failed to hide his annoyance from Lepario, both from the remark and how he waisted his time. As he was hurrying to Alfred´s chamber he fantasied about breaking a few the pins Lepario used to walk and see how he would manage to run across the fields.

 _A funny fantasy._ Corey thought. _But I don´t have the guts for it._

When he reached the door to Alfred´s chamber, there was something about it that made Corey scratch the back of his head. The door looked the same as it always had but there was something wrong with it. Little hidden details his mind had carefully arranged in his memory of the door where either missing or moved.

Corey just brushed the thought from his head and knocked on the door.

"Enter." A voice replied.

Corey pushed the door open and found the governor behind his desk, a servitor next to him aiding him transcribing, writing and organizing the documents that surrounded him.

"You summoned me." Corey said.

"Yes." Alfred replied. With a dry grunt and his arms shacking, the governor forced himself to his feet. Placing a hand on his hip, Alfred walked navigated the labyrinth of papers around him.

"You´ve been speaking with the Inquisitor." Alfred noted as he stared at Corey with his murky, grey eyes.

"Yes?" Corey found the remark curios. He was always careful to make sure that Alfred knew of his meetings with Derik.

"What was the last thing he told you?"

"That the Maiden´s death was a cruel tragedy. He has gone to reconcile with the Sisters of the Hawk." _To avoid another civil war if he can help it._

"Is that what he told you?" The murky puddles under Alfred´s forehead seemed to shimmer, as if his eyes had been replaced with mercury.

"That is what he told me." Corey replied, his tone fixed.

"Come with me, young general." Alfred walked past Corey and waved for him to follow.

Alfred led Corey back to the second cathedral. Lepario was gone at this point, only the little prayers of filled the hall.

"Do you see this painting?" Alfred stopped and pointed a slim finger towards the roof.

"It´s very difficult to miss." Corey said.

"Yes." Alfred turned back to Corey. "Do you know what happened to the painter once he was done with this masterpiece?"

"No, I do not know." Corey glanced up at the painting.

"Once he put down the brush, I put a hand on his shoulder and told him that this was his magnum opus." Alfred craned his neck backwards. "I told him that he would never be able to create a greater tribute to the Emperor. And then he burst into tear. He buried his face in my chest and thanked me for the opportunity I had granted him. Months later he returned. Weeping, only now out of misery. He said after coming this close to the Emperor´s grace he would spend the rest of his life chasing the sensation. He feared that his chase would eventually turn him to heresy."

Corey felt the muscles under his still wet coat stiffening.

"Do you know what I told him?"

"I wasn´t there." Corey pushed the words over his lips. "This painting has been here for all my life. I never knew the story of its maker."

"I told him of purge that the holy flames could bring." Alfred said. "I let him walk into the fire. The memory is still clear in my mind. The smell of flesh burning, the crackle as his skin blackened and turned to ash. His scream that filled this very hall. But then there is something before that. Before he stepped into the flames, he kneeled and kissed my hand. He thanked me, for granting him not one but two blessings. One to come close the Emperor, the second for letting his flame burn out rather than slowly fading away."

"Forgive me, cardinal Derus." Corey said once Alfred had finished. "But I have urgent matters to discuss." _We are at war after all._ "Could you tell what the point of this meeting is?"

Alfred gave a little snort at Corey´s question. "The death of the Maiden brought a revelation to me. Once I felt her life being snuffed from this realm, I discovered something."

"What did you discover?"

"A taint." Alfred said. "Of everyone on this world."

"I don´t understand." Corey said.

"Of course not." Alfred placed his hand on Corey´s shoulder. "I didn´t except you to. Let me try to make it clear. The Maiden was the purest of us all. She sensed what the rest of us where. What we have become. She chose to end her life to be with the Emperor, so she would be spared the horrors of us succumbing to the temptations of Chaos."

"Is that what you think we are doing?" Corey asked. "Was that the revelation?"

"Yes and no." Alfred answered. "I know what we are becoming. I know this world is beyond salvation. But this city, my cathedral, is not. I am preparing for everyone in within my city to be purged of their sins and taint."

The last sentence hit Corey like a hammer cracking into his skull.

 _The tech-priests. Their workings._ His heart started pounding so hard he could hear the blood running in his hear. He knew what Alfred was planning and struggled with every muscle in his body not to show his terror. He gripped his arm to stop from shacking and felt a cold bead of sweat starting to form on his temple. Unsure and panicking, Corey went down to one knee before Alfred, leaning his head forward so he started into the cathedral floor.

"Fire purges." Corey said, feeling the sweat rolling down his cheek.

"Fire cleanses." Alfred replied.


	29. Chapter 26

The black rose chapter 26

 _I want that bottle._ Derik thought. _I want to drink until this whole thing just turns into a bad dream before I wake up with piss drenched trousers and vomit taste in my mouth._

He rubbed his eyes so hard they started to hurt. Then he grunted. Despite wanting otherwise, Derik took a piece of parchment and his quill. He started writing out a message in the form of a standard cargo request.

 _We need another fifty gallons of liquor._ Derik joked to himself as he filled out the list. At the bottom of the page he left his signature next to a seal of crimson vax.

Derik looked at the page and felt his head getting heavy to the point where he wasn´t sure if the alcohol was still running through his veins.

 _It's not the alcohol._ Derik thought as he rubbed his temple to ease some the pressure. _It´s weariness._ He opened the vox link. "Tayber."

" _What is it, lord Inquisitor?_ "

"I have a message for you to transpire to the navigator." Derik answered. "Nothing complicated but it is important that this message reaches its recipient immediately."

" _I shall be with you shortly._ "

"Good." Derik closed the vox link and leaped out of his chair. He stretches his arms back over his head so he could feel the tendons stretching. He kept his arms there for a few moments before letting them fall. The sudden release of pain gave him a light rush of pleasure. He sighed softly and let his head roll on his neck.

The Inquisitor walked over to the documents he had received since leaving the ship and skimmed through them. Most of them were of little concern, a status update here, a troop movement there, but then there was one letter that gave him pause. Steading his hand, Derik unfolded the letter and quickly read through it. It was a report from the Mechanicum´s analysis. Once Derik had read it, he tilted his head back and released a grim laugh.

 _I was right about the Maiden._ He chuckled, deep and bitterly. _Tayber would have a fit with this if I told him._ A few more chortles crawled slowly from the deepest part of his throat. _Fuck…_

The door knocked and the tech-priest entered. Derik gave him the message and send him quickly on his way. Once he was gone, the Inquisitor quickly paced back to his desk and let himself sink into his chair. He started tapping a seal against desk as he stared blankly forward. He knew it wouldn´t take long. Soon the message would reach its destination and after that it would happened fast.

 _They are preparing to go to Cadia._ Derik thought. _And they don´t like me because of what I am._ Derik was being optimistic with "don´t like". It would be more accurate that they hated him for being an inquisitor.

 _But I must convince them._ Derik told himself. _I must bring them here._ He took a quick moment to think. _I don´t have any other options left._

The vox flashed by an incoming signal.

Derik reached over to answer the signal but hesitated. His hand hovered over the button but he ended up pressing it anyway. The crackling, murky holographic display activated and a figure took shape by the blurry, blue beams.

"Inquisitor Horst." The figure greeted Derik.

"General Ironfield?" Derik replied somewhat perplexed. "Why are you contacting me?" Derik did not have much time to waste so he just leaped to the important issue.

"There has been a… development." Corey replied.

Derik almost had to stop himself from not laughing again. Just going by the timing, he figured that it would be bad news but the tone of Corey´s voice made him certain.

"What is it?" Derik buried the bitterness under a still tone.

"I fear discussing it over the vox. Alfred has eyes and ears all over the capital. Just talking to you know does not come without risk."

"What can you tell me now then?"

"I can only make a request that we meet." Corey said. "On your ship."

"You´ll have to wait then." Derik closed the link.

 _I don´t need more bad news now._ Derik thought as the back of his head started tingling. _I need a bottle of something strong, and sleep._

Derik grunted with his teeth clenched. He reached into his desk and pulled out a pill tablet. He pushed one of the white tablets out with his thumb and tossed it into his mouth. With nothing but the liquor to drink, Derik forced it down his throat. His neck flexed as the dry pill dragged against the inside of his throat.

Then it started taking effect. At first the tingling faded and after that he felt a surge of energy running through his veins. It wasn´t the rejuvenating sensation Derik wanted but made his heart raze. Derik blinked a few times and rushed up to his office cogitator. He activated it and after warming it up by the sound of a loud hum, Derik navigated across the screen and started searching through the data-slates he had available. Numbers and symbols showed up on the clicking display. Derik let his eyes wander across all of them, taking little notes and valuing them.

"Young…" He pushed a few more keys and pressed his head as he felt the inside of his head pounding.

"Grey…" It in itself something Derik noticed but didn´t pay much mind to. Then his eye caught something. "Banished."

Derik tried to force his mind to slow down. The drug he had taken did have the side effect of speeding up the body's metabolism, causing an increase in general activity, but it made it troublesome for him to focus on any single subject or organize his thoughts.

"I can do this." Derik said as he stared back at the window, out over the prism blue ocean covering more than half of Prostoru, not unlike what Terra had been in ancient times.

 _Before the rise of the Emperor._

* * *

Derik stood in the hall that housed the ships largest cogitator. The massive hall was large enough to rival the ships of engine. Unlike the engine, that the Mechanicum cared for, the cogitator was adored by them. While Tayber may have been the highest ranking of the tech-priest on the ship, he shared the machine with five other tech-adepts. Though none of them had anywhere near as many augments as him. Every chance they got, they went in here to tend to the massive, buzzling machine.

 _Must be strange._ Derik though as he watched the vires leading in and out of the cogitator pulsing with blue light. _To have such strong feelings for something that isn´t alive, or even able to respond. Then again, maybe that´s the beauty of it._

"The link has been established, Lord Inquisitor." Tayber said as his segmented fingers constantly adjusted the signal to keep the link from tearing. "The navigator is sending the singal."

"Is the other end receiving?" Derik asked.

"We will know in a few moments."

Derik still felt his blood rushing through his veins like he was running for his life but he managed to keep his movements and general composure restrained. He took a slow breath but his heart kept hammering against his barrel.

"Signal is received, Lord Inquisitor."

"Open the feed link and allow them entrance."

Tayber nodded and his fingers darted across the controls like he was playing some kind of crude, musical instrument.

A towering, shimmering figure clad in power armor stepped into view before the Inquisitor. His movements where slower, and the image was prone to breaking then when Derik had talked to Corey. This was to be expected, even with the navigator boosting the signal, it would take a few moments before the words from one end would reach the other.

"Who are you?" The figure asked, looking down at Derik with folded arms.

"I am Derik Horst. Inquisitor of ordo herreticus." He replied.

"Hjalmar Hargen of the Vlka Fenryka." The answer came through a thick beard that ended in two large braids on his breastplate.

Before his heart was racing by the effect of the drug, now his heart pounded so hard Derik feared it might explode in his chest. He paused his breath and waited for his pulse to slow as he felt the inside of his ears throbbing by his pulse. He opened his eyes again and looked up at the Adeptus Astartes. "I have an offer that might interest you." The words went softly from his lips but they took some effort to form.

"Sounds like a tall tale." He replied with a loud and growling voice.

"You have gone into exile, haven't you?" Derik said.

There was no answer. The Astartes just stood silent before him. That was all the answer that Derik needed.

"I am willing to offer you a chance at redemption."

He scoffed, visibly flapping his large lower lip. "I´m not eager to make deals with the Inquisition."

Derik felt somewhat insulted by his reply. He knew very why Hjalmar wasn´t. It was the very reason he hesitated to contact the Vlka Fenryka when he heard of them. The war between the Inquisition and the Vlka Fenryka following the First War of Armageddon was not a part of the organizations history that Derik felt any pride for, but he had taken no part in it. He wasn´t even born when it happened.

 _Makes little difference to him._ Derik thought. _I carry the same seals as those that performed those acts. In his eyes I might as well be the same person._

"I know." Derik answered. "My superiors and predecessors are notorious for some of their actions."

"You´re damn right, you are." The reply came quicker then Derik had expected. "So, tell me then, what makes you different?"

Derik felt the blood in his head quicken. He gave the inside of his lip a light chew. "I could swear to you that I have never used the Exterminatus protocol nor have I ever initiated either a sterilization or concentration camp. But let´s face it, you would never take my word for much, would you?"

The response took a moment longer this time. "Right again, Inquisitor. So, what do can you do then?"

"I will display action." Derik replied. "Have you heard of the Sisters of the Hawk?"

"No."

Derik shared everything he knew about the Sisters of the Hawk, right up until their assault on the fortress and his discovery about the Maiden.

"Do you have evidence of what happened?" Hjalmar asked once Derik was finished.

"Relay it." Derik nodded towards Tayber. The tech-priest entered a series of commands on his console, the cogitator display let scrolled rows on rows of data across.

After a delay, Hjalmar turned and retrieved a parchment from someone outside of the holo-feed. He read through it quickly. "So, it is true." He said, crumbling the paper and tossing it aside. "The Maiden was a psyker."

"So, what do you say to my offer now?" Derik asked.

"You haven´t told me what the offer is yet."

"Like I said, a chance at redemption."

"And why should I take it?" Hjalmar asked. "Why should I not believe that you are just tricking us? Wouldn´t be the first time your kind as done that."

"I need to put this war to an end. I need the Sisters of the Hawk in the battle to come. If you don´t take this offer, they will die on their homeworld, failing stop the black crusade and your names will be all the more tainted. But if you help me, you will be granted the glory of bringing warriors to stop the Despoiler. I admit to not knowing much of Fenris, but the people of Prostoru will hail you as heroes."

The Space Wolf glared at Derik.


	30. Chapter 27

The black rose chapter 27

Even within the great hall, Anna could hear the rain smacking against the outside walls of the fortress. She could hear the howls of the wind and the skittering of rats running across the floor and inside the walls. Her fingers where steeped in front of her face, her thumbs twirling as the coloured beads slowly rotated between them. She gently kissed each of the them as they passed. Quietly, so that not even the rats could hear her, Anna uttered a prayer for clearance and guidance.

Another sister came from the end of the hall. The sound of her armoured boots hitting the stone floor echoed through the great hall.

Anna opened her eyes. "Who is it?" She asked slowly tilting her head forward so her lips touched the beads again.

"Galatea." The sister answered. "We have been summoned by the Canoness."

"Now?" Anna replied without looking back at Galatea.

"Now."

* * *

The Canoness had gathered Galatea, Anna, Sophia and Lilly in a room that felt like a cramped box compared to the cathedral. The only one missing was Melina, Sophia´s sister superior.

Anna wondered what exactly the usage of this room was before they had driven the heretics from the fortress. She suspected that it was the commander's quarters and felt her lips twisting at the idea of them holding a meeting in the room where the heretics had planned their battles and strategies.

"My sisters." The Canoness said. "We are still grieving the loss the Maiden."

 _May the Emperor have mercy on her soul._ Anna prayed to herself.

"But the heretics of this world think they can destroy us while we are mourning in this castle." The Canoness continued. "As we speak they are moving in on this fortress. We will show them how foolish their endeavour is."

"Where have the Imperial guard gone?" Galatea asked, while adjusting the harness that held her broken arm.

Through the thin slits in the Canoness´ veil, Anna could see the black eyes narrow with a sharp gaze at Galatea. Yet, the Palatine didn´t flinch or look away.

"What did the Inquisitor say?" Galatea said.

The room went silent as they both stared at each other. Neither one of them breaking each other's gazes.

"What." Galatea said. "Did. He. _Say_?"

The Canoness´ fist closed. Through her robes, Anna could see the Canoness flexing her muscles.

Galatea rose from her chair and glared down at the Canoness.

Anna felt her heart skipping a beat when Galatea so bluntly challenged the Canoness. She looked over at the Canoness and saw the black eyes tensing.

"He accused the Maiden of being a mutant." The Canoness said.

Galatea flinched. "What?"

The Canoness kept her eyes firmly locked with Galatea´s. "He thought that the Maiden killed herself because she was a mutant being subjected to the screams of the Warp. That the reason she killed herself was because of the bloodshed we caused."

"Foolishness." Sophia said.

"Indeed." The Canoness said. "I admit to not seeing it at first, but the Inquisitor is no agent of the Emperor´s will. He just some madman in a position of power and I made the mistake of trusting him."

Once the Canoness had finished, Galatea sat back down in her chair. She shifted her broken arm somewhat. "What about the Maiden´s final words?" She asked. "What about the prophecy?"

The Canoness threw a look at Galatea. Anna feared that they would be another conflict between them.

"I don´t know." The Canoness said.

"Rise and burn." Galatea said. "The final words of the Maiden of Astryoa, the Emperor´s chosen vessel, with her final breath she left us a prophecy. And you don´t know?"

The Canoness just glared at her. "It may not mean anything."

"It could also mean everything." Galatea answered.

Anna took a moment to think about the words. _Rise and burn._ She thought. _Rise and burn._

"Enough." The Canoness broke Anna´s thoughts with a gesture of her hand. "The Maiden´s final words are just as likely to be a foretelling prophecy as they are the ramblings of tainted mind. I cannot say which one, but what I can say is that the heretics are coming for us when they think us vulnerable. We will show them that their bravery is just foolishness as we slaughter them within these walls."

Once the Canoness was finished they started discussing battle plans and strategies for the battle to come. They would be outnumbered, that much was certain. The heretics would also have access the same tanks as the planetary defence forces and powerful artillery.

In the middle of the discussion, Galatea threw Anna a knowing look. Anna felt a cold shiver running across her skin as she thought about the odds they would be facing. For every sister there would be twenty heretics.

 _Twenty…_ Anna thought. _We are going to be outnumbered twenty to one._ She placed a hand on her arm and clutched the skin through her robes fabric. She felt her nails digging into her skin. Before the battle, she had protested against Galatea. But looking back there was no denying that the Imperial guard had been a great aid in capturing the fortress and without them, they would have been slaughtered before reaching the fortress walls. She knew what Galatea meant by that look.

" _It's always so damnably easy to look back on the past and tell yourself that things would have been different if you would have known."_ Anna recalled what Melina, Sophia´s sister superior had said. _She forgot that it's also easy to feel like a damned fool when looking back._


	31. Chapter 28

The black rose chapter 28

The tip of his quill scratched his paper and left a trial of shining ink in its path. Though his hand ached from it, the general enjoyed scribing these notes. He enjoyed the scent of the ink, and despite writing over fifty pages on the very same day he had no intention of slowing down. Once the page was filled he lifted the parchment by the corner and held it in the light of his wax candle. He watched the ink dry and lose its shine in the orange light before adding it to the pile.

The General was about to reach over and take the next paper when his hand trembling. Then it started shaking out of his control. He clenched his teeth and flexed his fist. He took the arm by the wrist and forced it to stop.

He put the trembling hand into his palm and massaged the center of the trembling hand with his thump. The hand felt cold and tingling.

 _How many battles?_ The general wondered. _How many fields of fire have I wondered through?_ _How many troops have I lead to their deaths?_ He sighed. _How strange that this would be my bane. That something inside me is killing me._

He took a fresh piece of paper. With a calmed hand, he dipped the point of his quill into the black inkwell and made sure to carefully dip the quill against the edge of the well.

The quill was just about to touch down on the paper when there was a knock on the door.

"You may come in." The General said in his usual, deep, commanding voice.

The door opened, and beam of light streamed into the dimly lit room. A man with thick, rounded cheeks stepped in. It was Dorno, the General´s closest servant.

"Commander." Dorno greeted.

"Yes, what is it?" The General pulled his tone down. "You know I don´t want to be disturbed when I´m writing."

"I apologize, Commander." Dorno nodded in apology. "But you wife is in…"

"Is in labor?" His voice was stepped in sarcasm and bitterness. _Damnable idiot. I know full well that she´s about to give birth, and the last time she only produced a weakling._

"Yes, commander."

"So why have you disturbed me?"

"It´s just that she…"

The General slammed his hands into the table. Almost spilling the content of the inkwell. "Get to what your trying to say and stop wasting my time."

"She´s started the bleed. The nurses fear that she might not survive this ordeal."

He pushed his quill aside and rose, pushing his chair back as he stood up. The chair´s legs screeched as they dragged along the floor.

"Take me to her now." The General stared into Dorno´s eyes and Dorno froze. The General could see the blood draining from his face.

"Yes commander." Dorno bowed stiffly before aiding the General with his coat and brought his cap.

Despite his condition and his age, the General never allowed anyone but himself to put the cap on. With a grunt, he adjusted it before turning back to Dorno. With a sharp look, Dorno knew what the General wanted and hurried to prepare the transport.

* * *

The General seemed to be in a rush to get through the doors. In his prime the nurses would have no chance of stopping him. But as he was, it took three of them to stop the General from charging into the room housing his wife.

"Stop right there, Lord General." The oldest nurse said.

Still struggling into the arms of three nurses, the General sneered. "Do you know who I am?" He said.

"I know full well." She replied.

"Then let me go."

"No." The nurse said. The General was about to say something, but she continued before he had a chance to say anything. "You may be the high Lord of the battlefield but in here you are just another visitor in my hospital. You will wait here until we come to get you. Is that understood?" Her eyes were piercing, and her gaze was harder than steel.

The General meet her, his own gaze struggling to match the stoicism of hers with muscles starting to tremble again.

"Is that understood, General?" The old nurse asked again.

"Its understood." He replied, and the other nurses let him go.

"What did I say?"

The General sighed. "I will sit and wait until you come for me."

"Good." She left, leaving the General alone with Dorno.

The General sighed again, and cursed. "Damn the way of nobles." He muttered.

"I´m sorry?" Dorno asked.

The General turned to his servant. "Do I love my wife?" He asked.

"I don´t think I understand." Dorno replied with his usual reserved tone.

"Even you aren´t dumb enough to get that question wrong." The General frowned. "But I´ll ask you again; do I love my wife?"

"No," Dorno replied. "you don´t."

"Exactly." The General said with a rough vigor. "Of all the damn, puffball nobles on this planet there is only one who loves his wife. And even then, it´s one sided. I married my wife because I needed to. Because it would aid my carrier." The General glance down the hallway the old nurse had disappeared down. "But looking at things now, I wish I would have married that nurse."

"Her?" Dorno asked, confused. "But you only just meet her."

"And already she´s shown more spirit than my wife has during our entire forsaken marriage."

"Surely your wife was pretty the first time you saw her?"

The General gave a growling laugh. "You always hear that the first time you saw her, you where whisked of your feet. That she looked more beautiful than you could have ever imagined. Not me. The first time I saw her I thought she looked like the most boring looking woman in the galaxy. But you know, I was still young and naïve. I thought that maybe she would be more pleasant to be around than most of the noble ladies I´ve had to bow down to over the years. When that turned out to be false I thought that maybe she could provide me with a good heir. Then she gave me my son. A weak, sickly little thing that I excepted to die within the first year. Somehow, he survived." The General shook his head. "I need this child to be strong. I need a strong heir." He glanced over at Dorno, who seemed almost shocked by the General´s words.

"Oh, of course my lord." Dorno nodded in agreement. "I am sure your wife will be able to provide a strong, healthy son for you."

The General just replied with a stern grunt.

The two of them then spent hours waiting. The General was unmoving as a statue where he sat. At most only his thumbs would move. Dorno on the other hand was pacing back and forth. Rubbing his arms and chewing the inside of his fat cheeks.

Then the old nurse finally came back. Her robes where covered in blood and her face was drained of almost all color. She looked exhausted.

"Well?" Dorno asked.

The nurse shook her head. She turned to the General. "Your wife is dead, Lord General."

He looked up at the old nurse with his brown eyes. "And what about the child?"

"Come with me." She gestured for the General to follow and with a surprising vigor, the General leaped from his seat.

The nurse led him down a long clinical hall, into a room with four other nurses. In the corner of his sight, he could see a body wrapped in bag.

 _I´ve seen thousands of corpses._ The General thought. _This one I will not miss._

"Lord General." The old nurse presented him with a bundle that she gently placed in his arms.

The General started to unfold it and found a little child inside it. A small pink little thing but no smaller or bigger then newborns should be. He drew a few more layers back and felt his mood sink.

"A girl." He muttered in sour tone. _I couldn´t have asked for a more useless wife._

"Is there a problem, Lord General?" The old nurse asked.

"It´s a girl." He said, glaring back at the old nurse with narrow eyes. "She can´t carry on my legacy." He put the girl back in the old nurse´s arms. "Get rid of her." He said while turning as he was about to leave.

As he was about to leave the room, the old nurse grabbed him by the shoulder and turned him around. "You wife gave her life to bring this girl into this world. Are you just going to abandon her?"

The General´s first instinct was to have her arrested for offending a high-ranking officer. But then he felt those steely eyes stared into his. He remembered what she said out in the hall and couldn´t help but admire her all the more.

 _What a wife she would have been._ He glanced down at the child."Give her to the Sisters of the Hawk. Tell them that she is gift from me. Tell them that she should honor my legacy by climbing the ranks of the Sororita like I climbed them in the Militarum, or she should die a glorious death in battle while spilling the guts of the vilest traitors to the Imperium." He looked back at the old nurse. "Do this, or I will have you and your staff arrested and tried for failing to save my wife."

In a moment that lasted no longer then the blink of an eye, the General could see the steel in the old nurse´s gaze crack.

"I will do this." She said. "One condition.

"What?"

"Name her."

"Very well." The General agreed. He looked down at the girl and placed a hand one her forehead. "You are Ironfield. Johana Ironfield."


	32. Chapter 29

The black rose chapter 29

Following her sisters of the Talons, Emma walked through the courtyard. The Canoness was waiting for them at the still destroyed gate. On her left her was Anna, the banner of the Hawk in her left hand. Her right hand resting idle on her sword´s pommel. On the Canoness´ right was Melina and her four fellow sister Repentia. They only wore black, metallic corsets that left their arms and thighs completely exposed. Their faces where covered with a hood made of a blood red cloth, their heads underneath had been shaven clean. Behind them was their Mistress of Repentance, Clair, a sister from Sophia´s most skilled fighters who the Canoness had elected for the task. In each hand, she held a Neural Whip, a pair of black whips, crackling like power swords.

The Canoness looked over them, her glowing, red eyes slits passing from one side of the Talons to the other.

"Today they have come!" The Canoness bellowed, her voice strengthened by her helmet´s vox-grill. "The heretics are waiting outside out walls. Before the resting grounds of the Maiden of Astryoa. They want do not only come here to disrupt us in our hour of mourning, but they also wish to defile the Maiden´s sacred resting ground!" She placed a hand on the book. "For their crimes, we will show no mercy. Their deaths will come without redemption!"

Emma pulled her lower lip into her mouth and chewed lightly on it.

"They think us vulnerable." The Canoness continued. "But as they enter these walls, they will meet nothing but slaughter. By the Talons of the Hawk and the fury of the Repentia." She glanced over to Melina and was answered with a scream as Clair cracked the whip across Melina´s back. Her skin visibly darkened as her muscles tensed to the point where Emma could see them pressing up against her neck.

"And…" The Canoness turned to face the gate and she drew her sword. "Here they come!"

Looking through the gate, Emma could see the men running towards them. They wore grey, tattered armor plates and where either armed with scratched, worn lasguns or broken long knives. They came like rising tide, their momentum only slowed when they reached one of the trenches.

 _Out there,_ Emma thought. _There must be hundreds of them. But in the gate, there can only be ten of them._ She drew her sword.

When the grey wave reached the gateway, it broke against the sisters in splashes of crimson by the roars of the Repentia and the screams of power swords.

Emma was at the front, close the Canoness as the Talons pushed forward. The Canoness was at the front, the Repentia flanking her. Her screaming blade cutting through armor and flesh like it was paper and water. She granted quick, though bloody deaths. The eviscerators where not so kind. The blurring teeth would chip away at the armor, giving their enemies a quick chance to feel the force of the weapon before it cut started tearing away at their flesh. Then it would it only take a second or two, but it was enough for them to scream. The screams of their foes where only matched by the screams of the Repentia as their mistress let her black whips kiss their backs.

One of them managed to roll under the swipe of the eviscerator, putting him right in front of Emma. He had no chance to avoid her attack. She rammed him in the chin with her knee, sending broken teeth flying as he crashed to the ground. Turning her blade, Emma stabbed him in the chest. As she felt the blade cutting through his ribcage and digging itself into the ground, she could see his eyes glaring up at her before they rolled back. Grunting, Emma pulled her sword back.

The Repentia and the Canoness where just a few meters ahead of her. More and more of the grey soldiers came and they were all slaughtered the moment they came within reach of the Canoness´ and the Repentia´s blades. Emma hurried up to them.

The front kept pushing forward, creating a thick mat of bodies on the ground they passed. They stopped just before the gate entrance, where their enemies still had to be funneled together in order to reach to them. And now the bodies started stacking on top of one another. The mat grew to a mound. The mound grew to a hill. In under just a few minutes, hundreds of men were butchered and gathered up before the gate. One last man climbed over the hill of bodies. Once he was on the top, he fumbled to try and turn around. He slipped on the blood of his fallen comrades and ended up tumbling down. Towards the fortress. He barely had a chance to blink before the Canoness cut his head from his shoulders. The severed head rolled down and stopped next to Emma´s feet. The dead, white eyes gawking at her.

The Canoness growled. She sheathed her sword and gestured for the sisters to follow her. The Canoness put her shoulder against the wall and pushed. The sisters joined her and not long after the wall of bodies toppled over, limbs flapping and bones breaking as they fell. Once the corpses settled, the Canoness climbed on top. Anna was soon to follow her. Together they stared across the battlefield they had shared with the Imperial guard.

Emma slipped a few times when she tried to climb it. The blood oozing out of the bodies made it slippery. She eventually managed to reach the top, and once she did, Emma glanced over her shoulder, hoping to find Johana among her sisters behind her. But if Johana was there she was hidden among rows of sisters wearing similar, if not identical armor.

Emma sighed and turned back. To her right, next to the Canoness, the Repentia had reached the top. The exposed parts of their skin were so drenched in blood that it was hard to tell their skin from their crimson hoods.

The Canoness yanked the standard from Anna´s hands and rammed the spear tipped end down, skewering at least two bodies below it with a wet crack.

"This is what you send?!" The Canoness roared. "They send us forsaken warriors armed with broken weapons and torn armor. They think this will be enough to end the Sisters of the Hawk?!"

The sisters bellowed in response with their swords and bolters raised above their heads.

The Canoness turned. "They are sitting out there!" She pointed past the wall and Emma followed her finger. At the second trench was a single man. He stood still with his arms crossed.

"They do not dare to come for us!" The Canoness continued. "They sit there. Bidding their time!"

Emma swallowed. She knew what the Canoness was going to order next. She quietly prayed that she was wrong. But regardless of the Canoness´ orders, Emma would obey.

"I will not give them time to wait!" The Canoness drew her sword again and turned back to face the field. The blade ignited with shrieks of a thousand birds. "Charge!" The Canoness leaped from the wall of dead bodies.

Her heart skipped a beat, and Emma leaped forward as she drew her own sword. She landed on the side of the wall and felt her boots slipping across the bodies as she sprinted forward. When she reached the ground, the dry dirt gave more resistance than she anticipated and Emma almost overstepped into the first trench. She leaped from lip of the trench landed on the other side with a hard crunch. In the corner of her eye, she noticed a glimmer, like a light reflecting in a puddle coming from the bottom of the trench. She was about to turn and give it a closer inspection when her sisters ran forward behind her.

A cloud of dirt grew from their feet as they charged forward. Their blades screamed, their bolters roared, and their swords growled. Emma pressed a rune on her own sword. In the corner of her eye she saw the sword flare with a blue pulse before white bolts started running along the length of it.

Halfway across, more details were added to the man behind the trench. He was dressed in a coat like the one she had seen Colonel Lup wear when he walked through the camp. Unlike Garius though, he was broad and powerfully built with a sly smile on his lips. He stood behind the second trench with his arms raised like he was surrendering.

 _He´s not._ Emma thought, and a few moment later her suspicion was confirmed. He pushed both hands down, like he was orchestrating, and the second trench came to life. Men the size of tanks climbed out of the trench.

 _Ogryns._ Emma immediately recognized the abhumans and felt the hand holding the sword flexing. She counted five of them. All armed with mauls the size of a normal human and clad in crimson carapace armor. _It's not enough. They will be crushed._

Bellowing through their relatively short throats, the ogryns roared and pounded their weapons into the ground. As they did, another set of soldiers came from the trench. Normal humans, but unlike the ogryns they were not wielding any weapons. Strapped to their left arms was only a shield larger than themselves. Once they had climbed to the top, they stabbed the toothy ends of their shields into the ground and formed a shield wall.

Now Emma felt a cold prickle running up her neck. She slowed down a little and looked over her shoulder and then she realized what it was that she saw in the trench.

Running out of the trench with limbs made of metal and knifes for fingers, mechanical warriors swarmed forward on long, piston powered legs.

Emma looked back at the shield wall, then back to the swarm. _They´re trying to surround us._ Emma realized as the prickle spread across her body.

"Canoness!" Emma shouted but got no response. The Canoness was charging one of the ogryns with the Repentia at her side. Despite the ogryn being twice the Canoness´ size, she ran towards it without any signs of fear. The ogryn pulled back its weapon to strike but the Canoness rolled under the attack and ended up behind it. The Repentia where not as quick. Emma could see at least two of them flying above the sisters.

In a panic, Emma grabbed the first of her sisters she could reach and turned her around. "Brace for it!" Emma yelled, and now more of her sisters listened. Like a ripple, more and more of them turned and saw the swarm coming for them. With a sizable amount of the sisters turning heel and facing the incoming attack, Emma pointed her sword forward and waited for the attack. It was only now that she could manage to get an idea of how many these horde of mechanical were.

 _They will grind us to death._ Emma thought and then something sparked in her head. She looked over at her sisters. "Half of you follow me! Other half circle around!" Even with her voice being amplified by the vox-grill, Emma was unsure if every sister could hear her over the barks of bolters and the screeches of power swords. She had no time to wait or make sure if they did. She ran as fast as her legs could carry her and could at least hear boots hitting the ground behind her.

Seemingly not concerned with Emma´s maneuverer, the mechanical swarm just headed for the center of the Talons, where the largest clump of sisters where still fighting the ogryns.

 _Good._ Emma ran around the thick swarm at an angle. _Emperor, let this work._ She begged, still unsure of how many of her sisters had actually followed her orders.

"Now!" She turned again and ran straight into the side of the swarm. She looked to her side and saw at least twenty of her sisters following her. There was a short-felt relief in that. Then she came into the flank of the mechanized berserkers.

The screaming steel cut clean into its upper body, the point punching out the other end slick with brown oil. Emma expected it to fall as she pulled the blade back, but instead it came for her. The claws scratched away the upper layer of her armor and started digging into the fiber-netting beneath until Emma could get ahold of its arm and separate it at the shoulder. She tossed the arm away and took a firm grip on its neck made of joints and wires. She punched her sword through the bulb-like shape that sat perched on top of its shoulders. With a loud hum, the machine-warrior went limp.

Emma felt a relief that was swiftly crushed as another one came for her. This one was had all the same limbs and joints as it comrades but when Emma blocked the dagger fingers with her blade she saw the blur of sword coming towards her side. The impact cracked the ceramite and Emma flinched at the pain before another blow came. This time she could feel the point of the blade trying to dig its way through the cracks. Emma let go of her sword with one hand and grabbed the tip of the blade. Due to the rush of battle, Emma didn´t fell the edge cutting through thin layer of armor inside her hands and then cutting into her fingers. The thing was strong. Emma had it in a stalemate, but she felt herself slowly budging as the claws pressed her sword down and the blade started slipping between her fingers. She swept its legs out from under it with her foot, throwing it of balance. Emma gave it no chance to recover, she cleaved the thing in half with a broad stroke and made sure it stayed down by crushing its head under her boot.

Finding a pause, Emma looked around the battlefield and tried to get an idea of where everybody where. The ogryns where still standing, the Canoness was still locked in combat with the same one as before. While she had no idea of how things looked on the other side, on her flank at least, the mechanical soldiers were giving in. But the fighting was slow, and the rear of the center had taken the worst of the impact. Despite what Emma had done, there were still more of these things then her sisters.

Emma looked for some of opening. _We need to get back to the fortress. We´ll never last out here._

She ran along the line of sisters, back to the center and pulled everyone she could find to the flanks, hoping to grind the skittari warriors down further. But there were still the ogryns and the shield wall. Emma was rallying five sisters when an ogryn broke through the line and slammed its weapon down towards her. Emma managed to roll out of the way just in time but two of her sisters were not as quick and both ended up crushed underneath the ogryn´s club. One of them was holding the line on the mechanical soldiers and her death left an opening.

Emma had no time to think, only to act. She drew her boltpistol and let a few bolts lose against the ogryn´s head, causing part of its face to collapse but the brute did not die. The ogryn clutched its head and screamed.

With her hands working more out of reflex then thought, Emma put holstered her boltpistol and charged the ogryn. She ran up to a leg as thick as a log and slashed her blade across its knee.

The ogryn started timbering to its side but stopped itself from completely falling by bracing with its club. But it left its head hanging.

Emma slashed her sword across its neck and felt a waterfall of blood running down on her head. The ogryn hit the ground with its arm still grasping for the gash in its neck. Emma turned the sword and rammed it into the ogryn´s neck. Once the ogryn was properly dead, she climbed on top of its corpse to get a better overview of the battlefield. The first thing that caught Emma´s eye when pushing herself up on the body´s shoulder was the sheer density of the mechanical horde. The crimson metallic sheen of their bodies formed sharp line against the black of the sister's armor. Between that line, the air was filled with sparkling blades, thick oils and red blood. Emma turned to the other side and found the Canoness.

In the middle of the shield wall she stood. Her armor was torn and bulked inwards. Of the five Repentia that had charged in with her, only two remained. Together they were facing an ogryn that was larger than the others by at least a good meter. It swung a club like the others, but its entire body was covered in a thicker plating. The strokes of its weapon were wide and slow. They would have been simple to avoid for any of the sisters at any other circumstances, but the Canoness was battered and Repentia were weary.

"Canoness!" Emma shouted, hoping to her heard this time.

The Canoness looked away for a glance and that's when the ogryn swung its club again. The Repentia managed to get out of the way but the Canoness was struck at the waist. The club carried her for a swing until it flung her against the shield wall like a ragdoll. The sword slipped from her hand and Emma could only watch as the ogryn picked up the Canoness with both hands and started headbutting her. The Canoness seemed limbless in the ogryn´s arms. Through its thick helmet, the ogryn gave of a thundering bark of laughter. The Canoness seemed to come back to life. She moved her arms and looked around her. Emma shared a quick look with her before the Canoness reached for her waist. Her hand returned clutching her grenade belt. She reached forward, took the ogryn by the collar of his armor and punched the grenades into the folds between its neck.

"For the Emperor!" She screamed just before the grenades went off. It was explosion made of yellow light that produced a cloud of thin smoke that faded a quick moment later. The ogryn hung still. A bloody stump remained where its head had been. Its arm, along with the Canoness, had been completely obliterated. It seemed that the ogryn´s body only now realized that its head was missing and the lumbering thing timbered to the ground.

Stunned by what she saw, Emma bit down on her lip until she could taste blood on her tongue. She looked back to the shield wall and saw the rest that their enemies had store for them.

"Krak grenades!" Emma ordered as she reached for own grenade belt and felt the domelike shape of it in her hand. She pulled the pin and tossed it right into the thick of the mechanical swarm. Though far from everyone could do it, she saw at least half a dozen other shimmering bulbs being thrown into the swarm.

Krak grenades were not made to take out infantry, Emma was aware of that. But these were no ordinary infantry. These skittari where more machine than flesh. Their dome shaped bodies would either reflect or simply absorb the incoming shrapnel of normal grenades. Though the explosions of Krak grenades would be smaller, they were made to cut through the armor of tanks.

 _It's a good trade off._ Emma told herself.

The explosions of the grenades sent flung pieces of metal into the air. Everything from screws to full limbs went flying in the force of the blasts. Big, gaping holes were left in the wakes of the grenades. Still standing on top of the ogryn´s body, Emma could see the ranks of the mechanical soldiers starting to give in as the sisters started cutting into them. She looked back and stared the commander in the eye. He was still standing on the lip of the other trench; his arms crossed and smile on lips that wore his confidence like a medal. Under her helmet, Emma sneered and growled. She knew why he was so confident. She knew that he was just toying with them. She glanced along the shield wall and looked at the ogryn´s still fighting. On the far left of her, one was halfdead its arm barely hanging on by its shoulder and sisters surrounding it were giving it hails of bullets. Another was not far from her, still fresh and keeping the sisters at bay. Emma drew her boltpistol and emptied the magazine into his back. Enough to make the ogryn stagger and give one of the sisters enough time to finish it off by pushing her sword through his chest. The sister that fell the ogryn looked up at Emma.

"Fall back to the fortress!" Emma pointed towards the gate. "Tell Galatea to aim the Rhino into the gateway!"

The sisters gave a quick nod and ran back to the fortress.

Emma took her second Krak grenade and was about to pull the pin when she looked over the swarm. A force that might have been well over a hundred warriors to start were now less then thirty. But with their reduced numbers the size of their formation had gone with it.

 _I´ll just be taking out my own sisters._ Emma put the grenade back into her belt and leaped off the ogryn´s corpse.

"Finish them!" Emma cut one of the mechanical soldiers in half with the aid of her sister. "Quickly!"

To her side, Emma could hear the growls of chainsword. Then she saw bursts of yellow sparks. _The Repentia._ Emma knew. _Hope the teeth of the eviserator can cut through the hide of these tin soldiers._

Little did she have to worry there. The eviserator cut through the metal like it was flesh. The teeth chewed through their metallic skin in the flash of an eye before it started tearing into the cybernetic organs and veins underneath. Every enemy that wandered into range of the massive chainsword was finished in drizzle of oil and sparks.

The mechanical swarm stood no chance now. With the sisters surrounding them, they where cut down quick. And for every fallen warrior, they feel exceedingly quicker.

Emma faced the final warrior. Its claws came stabbing and jittering at her with an animalistic frenzy. It moved quickly, quicker than any human could. But the claws were short, and the rigid arms made its movements stiff. Emma simply side stepped one strike and rammed her sword through the warrior´s neck, the point of her sword punching through its back. The warrior went limbless and hanged from her blade. As Emma pulled the sword back as she could fell her sisters' eyes on her.

"Fall back!" Emma ordered. "Back to the first trench!" She drew her boltpistol. "Any sister carrying a bolter provide covering fire!" Emma tossed the guns magazine and slammed a fresh one in before shooting unavailingly at the shield wall. The impact of the shoots made the wall waver but it was never going to break because of it. As the sisters started falling back, the ogryn took chase. Bellowing at the top of their thick lungs, the abhumans followed the sister.

"Take aim for the ogryns!" A burst spat from Emma´s bolter as she took aim for the weaker parts of the ogryn´s armor. Between the joints and underneath the folds of its arm. A few of the shoots manage to punch between the plates, into the ogryn´s thick hide underneath.

The ogryn slowed down and clutched the wounds she caused as thick blood started seeping between its fingers. Facing the sisters its armor had become battered and cut through. It tried picking up the pace again as it let out another roar. Though this was a weak, meager sound compared to the thunder it produced before.

Emma gave it a few more burst with her boltpistol before she leaped into the first trench. Her joints gave a sting of as she hit the ground.

"Galatea!" Emma forgot to lower her voice as she called out over the vox.

" _Emma?_ " The Palatine replied.

"Is the Rhino in position?"

" _Yes._ " Galatea answered with confusion in her voice.

"Fire the heavy bolters on the corpses gathered up in the gateway." Emma saw one of the ogryn´s reaching the trench and sweeping its club across it, sending at least three sisters into the air with a single sweep.

" _What´s going on?_ " Galatea asked.

Emma felt like she was about to shout so loudly Galatea would hear her without the vox. "Do it now!"

" _Alright._ "

Behind her, Emma heard the rumbles of the Rhino´s heavy bolters tearing into the bodies that were pilled up in the gateway. The barks followed by thick splashes as they blasted thick chunks of blackened meat away.

Emma quickly gathered five of her sisters and took them as they climbed out of the trench. She pressed the rune on her sword and charged.

The ogryn was taken off guard. It was so preoccupied with swinging its club around the trench it had left its back completely exposed to sisters behind it.

Emma drew her sword in between the plates of the armor just above the ogryn´s lower back. He screamed as Emma cut across its back and the other sisters joined in. It was dead within a moment.

With her sword still crackling, Emma looked across the trench for the final ogryn but couldn´t find it. She turned and saw it running back to the shield wall.

" _The gateway is cleared._ " Galatea came in over the vox.

Emma looked to the gate to confirm what she was being told. "Fall back through the gate!" She started running along the trench. "Retreat!"

As they ran through the gateway, their boots crunched by the sounds of broken bones and crushed organs. When Emma reached the tank, the legs of her armor were caked in blood and guts. Galatea was at the Rhino´s flank.

"Where´s the Canoness?" Galatea asked when she saw Emma.

"She´s dead." Emma replied. "Killed by an ogryn as we ran out into the field."

Galatea paused.

"We need to block the gate!" Emma felt all her anger come out with the words. "We can´t let the heretics get a foothold in here."

"Alright." Galatea gestured for her sisters of the Tail to move up and form firing line with their heavy bolters. The Rhino stayed in the center as the Talons lined up on its side.

Despite the formation that Galatea formed, Emma felt her arm tremble. "He was just playing with us." Emma thought aloud.

"What did you see?" Galatea asked. "What are his forces?"

"The ogryns and the mechanical warriors that he used now was just a show of strength." Emma forced a slow breath passed her lips. "He wanted to show what he could do by massacring the Talons before coming for the fortress." _He must have counted on the Canoness running out into the field._ Emma looked over at the Palatine and saw that the color had drained from her face.

"Did you lead them?" Galatea asked.

"What?" Emma was puzzled by the question.

"The Canoness is dead. Someone had to make sure you made it back. Was it you, Emma? Did you lead the Talons?"

Emma had to pause for a moment before she answered. "Yes." She nodded. "I did." Then something struck her mind. _Johana._

"Sisters of the Talons!" Galatea called out. "Emma is now your acting commander! You will follow her orders. Is that understood?"

There was not a single word coming from any of the Sisters of the Talons.

"Good." Galatea placed a hand on Emma shoulder. "They are yours to command now."

Emma was still stiff from the words that Galatea had spoken. The only thing that surprised her more at that moment was the fact that her sword hadn´t slipped from her fingers.

The Palatine shock Emma´s shoulder. "Did you get that?"

"Yes, Palatine of the Tail." Emma replied with a stilted and stunned tone.

"You´re scared." Galatea noted. "Good."

"Why is that good?" Emma asked.

"It means you´re not stupid." Galatea said. "You´ve manage to avoid one catastrophe. You can survive another."

"Its nothing compared to what´s coming." Emma looked Galatea in the flesh-eye.

Galatea gave her a forced smile as the joints in her mechanical eye clicked. "What are we facing?"

"At least a dozen more ogryns and hundreds more soldiers. I saw more tanks but couldn´t get any idea of what kind or how many."

"Get your sisters to reinforce the gateway barrack." Galatea turned back to the Sisters of the Talons. "Anyone who can´t fight is to bring ammo and supplies to the front."

"You heard her. Get to it!" Emma turned to follow Galatea as she returned to the Rhino. "Do we have a plan?"

"The Canoness feel for a simple ploy. We won´t." Galatea put a hand on her tank, stroking its hull. "We´ll let them come to us. The moment anyone of them reach the gate, they will be torn to pieces by our barrage of bolters. The important things is that we can´t let them reach the courtyard."

"Alright. So, we hold the line." _For however long it can last._

"Yes. I will be on the wall, surveying the battle." Galatea headed to the nearest staircase and left Emma with the Talons and the Tail. The Talons was still struggling to form a descent line, as everyone seemed to stumble or drop something at every step.

"Sister of the Talons." Emma let her voice be raised and the sisters stopped. "Gather your weapons and form a solid line of defense behind the Tail." She had to stop herself from chuckling out of amusement at the idea of the Talons acting as rearguard. "We cannot let this line fall. Any heretic that somehow manages to reach us must be killed."

The Sisters of the Talons were silent again.

"Now get moving!" Emma turned to face the gate herself and to her relief, she heard the Sisters of the Talons coming up behind her. Emma didn´t turn to face them. She waited for them to form up as she gave her boltpistol a quick check and a fresh magazine. She looked up again and saw a sister standing next to her. Just by a quick look at her armor, Emma knew exactly who it was.

"Johana." The name past her lips like a whisper.

Johana didn´t answer.

 _Probably didn´t hear._ Emma thought. _Or she is focused on the battle._ She squeezed the handle of her sword. _I need to focus as well._ Though she had to wander why. There was no chance for them. Even if the ogryns and troops came on the wall like waves on rock, there was more than enough artillery out there to tear the entire wall down and kill every sister behind it.

The thought seemed to slip back into her head as she recalled the words of the Lectitio Divinitatus. _The one who has nothing still has their life to give_.

 _Emperor…_ Emma fiddled with her fingers. _The life of a lying whore may not be worth much to you. But if it means I can get to meat my son again I will gladly give it to you. God-Emperor of Mankind, I beg of you, accept my life and grant my request. Send me a sign._ She walked up to the Rhino. Beyond the bog of blood and bodies in the gateway, Emma saw what the heretics where sending forth.

"Be ready." She said to a Sister of the Tail. "They are coming."

She raised her bolter. "Yes, Palatine."

"I´m not a palatine."

"My apologies."

"Just make sure the bolts find their target."

"I will…"

"Emma."

She nodded. "Emma."

A thick, black rock was forced down her throat as Emma turned to face the Talons. "What are our orders?"

" _To guard the fortress._ "

"That´s right." Emma paced back and forth a few steps. "If one of the heretics manages to survive the Tail it is our task to pierce them with the Talons of the Hawk."

The Sisters of the Talons were quiet, but Emma could see a few nods among their ranks. She glanced to her side and saw Johana quietly nodding has well.

"We´ll…" Emma stopped as she saw bright, burning comets coming crashing from the sky. She wouldn´t have paid them any mind except they were getting larger. At first, they were the size of dots. Emma blinked, and they were the size of bolter shells. Her heart barely had time to beat before they were the size of her fist. As they grew larger more details were made clear. The comets may have been wrapped in flames made by the air burning around them, but these were not irregular rocks. They were made of metal and carried the hard shapes of factoruim produced hulls. Shaped like teardrops, these pods with grey hulls speeded towards the ground.

In short, yet thunderous rain, the pods crashed into the battlefield with enough force to make the ground under Emma´s boots tremble. The bang of them hitting the ground rivaled the blast coming from artillery cannons.

"What…"

 _Auuuuuoooooooooo!_ A feral howl echoed from outside the fortress wall.


	33. Chapter 30

The black rose chapter 30

The doors dropped, and Hjalmar gazed out across the battlefield. His younger brothers were already rushing into combat, their chainaxes whirring and their bolters barking.

 _Eager._ Hjalmar thought. _Like always._ He raised his storm shield and charged. The pistons of his armor creaked and protested as his legs went into a sprint. He released a feral howl and crashed into an ogryn. Still disoriented from the blast of the drop pod, the ogryn was taken completely blindsided by the wolf´s attack. With one powerful bash to its hip by Hjalmar´s shield, the ogryn lost its footing and fell over. Hjalmar cut the head of by the neck with one sure strike. The head rolled across the ground as Hjalmar spotted his next opponent.

A Leman Russ Tank turning it´s cannon towards him as swiftly as a tank could. The sight of it made Hjalmar expose his fangs in a loud snarl. He sprinted towards the tank and its side mounted bolter snapped to him. Hjalmar raised and pressed the rune on his storm shield as the bolter started tossing empty shells from its side.

A shower of white sparks accompanied by a crackle of ice blue lighting came from the shield each time it was it. Though the shield took most of the impact, Hjalmar still felt the punches of the bolts down to his elbow. Hjalmar frowned and pulled his upper lip back, this time exposing an entire row of his teeth. He kept running forward as the cannon slowly lined up with him.

But was to slow.

Hjalmar dashed the last bit to the tank and ended up next to the bolter. He slammed his shield into it, crushing the inner workings of the weapon while bending its outer layers. Hearing the crew shouting in a panic from the inside, Hjalmar climbed on top of the tank and tore the hatch open with one hand. Inside he could see young man with a panicked expression on his face. Hjalmar split the boy´s face with his axe and tossed a grenade into the tank. As he leaped of the tank made a small bounce followed by the treads on one side falling lose.

He was about to join his brothers when something rammed into his side, flipping him in the air before he tumbled across the dry ground. His sight switched between the bright blue sky and the cold, grey ground with dirt gathering in his eyes. When he came to a stop, Hjalmar felt the shield in one hand but nothing in the other. He looked to his side and saw the axe on the lip of a trench about ten meters away from him. He rolled over to his stomach and quickly climbed to his feet. Pain bit into the side of his cracked armor as he glared at the tank that shoot him. A Baneblade. The largest, most venerated tank in the Imperium. The warmachine was bristling with armaments, looking more like a fortress on treads than a tank. At first Hjalmar wondered why the shell hadn't taken him out entirely until he saw the dent on the tanks side.

 _Damaged._ The wolf´s first thought that the damage was caused by one of the drop pods but he tossed that idea out as he bolted to the wreck of the Leman Russ Tank to use it as cover. _The dent can´t have been caused by a drop pod landing on it._ Hjalmar thought as he wished for a power fist and a jump pack. _If impact hadn´t crushed it my brothers would have torn its crew to pieces before they could realize what had happened. What hit it?_

* * *

Galatea lowered her binoculars and looked out on the field.

"Did we hit it?" Lilly asked from the fortress´ mortar seat.

"Not a direct hit." Galatea raised her binoculars again, and with the assistance of her augmented eye, she estimated the distance, speed and trajectory of the Baneblade. "Adjust by fourteen degrees." She told Lilly. "Wait…." She held her hand still as she noticed an Adeptus Astartes taking cover behind the hulk of tank. _Move._ Galatea thought as if the Space Marine could somehow hear her.

" _Galatea._ " Emma came through the vox. " _What´s going on? What came through the drop pods?_ "

"Reinforcement." Galatea replied. "Space Marines."

" _What´s their status?_ "

A few minutes ago, Galatea would have said it was a massacre. The initial strike by the Adeptus Astartes was swift and hard, but not deceive. Infantry and ogryns on their own, stood no chance against the Emperor´s chosen warriors but the heretics were starting to bring in more heavy reinforcement in the form of tanks and more mechanical warriors. And these were not the disciplined troops of legend. These marines fought savagely and individually. Each one of them seeking to take out as many enemies as he could with no aid from his brothers.

"They need aid." Galatea answered.

" _I will take the Talons out to there_." The nervousness and doubt in Emma´s voice was poorly hidden behind a tone of false stoicism.

"The battle is not over, Emma." Galatea warned. "You are the commander of the Talons. Take the Tail as well and make sure you don´t lead them astray."

" _Yes, Palatine._ "

Galatea looked across the top of the wall. The Tail were using the mortars and the Wings prepared to descend on the battlefield. Galatea shared a quick glance with Sophia before they leaped from the wall.

"Galatea?" Lilly asked. "Can we fire?"

Galatea raised her binoculars. "No." She replied.

* * *

Emma ordered her sisters to charge and the Talons followed her. They ran through the bog of blood and guts that filled the gateway before coming out on the battlefield again. Men clad in grey armor that were taller than normal humans but smaller than the ogryns slaughtered every heretic in sight. The shoulder pads of their armor were bright yellow with the head of a black wolf painted across it. Thick, shaggy pelts where slung across their backs and skulls of beasts hung from their weapons. Some of them did not to wear their helmets, instead letting their long beards and tussled hair flinging wildly from their heads. When they barked, or snarled at the heretics, Emma could see sharp fangs pointing out form their jaws.

 _So, these are the Adeptus Astartes._ Emma thought. _The Emperor´s chosen angels._ She looked over her shoulder, making sure that the Talons stayed in formation. The Tail followed behind, acting as rearguard and reinforcement. Above her, Emma saw the Wings plunge to the ground.

The marines fought in small groups of five or seven, though they did not have any formation or line to speak of. Not that it seemed to matter much. Their sudden strike on the enemy had shattered any semblance of formation that they might have had. Even one of the marines was enough to take on an entire squad of soldiers by himself. Regardless, Emma knew what their enemy was bringing. This battle was not over yet.

Emma turned to look at the Talons. She saw Johana standing next to her and Anna behind her.

"Anna." Emma pointed towards the standard bearer. "Take half the Talons and twenty of the Tail and join up with the Astartes warriors on the eastern flank. The rest of you follow me." Emma turned to leap across the trench. To her surprise, when she looked back over her shoulder Johana had chosen to follow Anna. Emma could fell a little pebble in her throat but quickly swallowed it.

 _The battle._ Emma told herself. _Focus on the battle. If you don´t, you die._ It was such a simple conceit yet somehow it washed the dread of her. Like it was shredding every rule away, leaving only a pure, plain principal behind. _Survive._

The first group of wolves they encountered where going up against a unit of armored ogryns. As one of the marines rammed shoulder-first into an ogryns he sent it crashing to the ground before burying the head chainaxe in the ogryn´s chest, Emma suddenly felt like a little girl again, taking men that she only reached the chest on. He was bald cut with a, compared to his brothers, short beard that only reached the top of his breastplate.

"Sister of the Hawk?" He asked with an accent so thick that it made Emma struggle for a moment to recognize what he said.

"Yes, honorary Adeptus Astartes." Emma performed the most graceful bow she could muster with her weary muscles.

"Har." He barked a laugh. "I am Tor and we are the Vlka Fenryka." He showed a toothy grin. "The Space Wolves."

Emma nodded nervously. "There are more coming." Emma said, trying to make her voice sound hard in front of the savage warrior.

"Grand." He replied. "They'll be more of these bastards to kill."

"No." Emma said, feeling her muscles tense and her heart pounding. "They are not just bringing more troops. They have tanks, mechanical warriors and who knows what else."

"What are you saying?" The tone of the wolf´s voice showed irritation.

"Get in formation with us." Emma pointed to her sisters. "If we fight together we will can show them the true might of the Emperor."

He snorted. "Fine." He took his brothers and steeped into the ranks of the Talons.

"Let´s go." Emma jogged further across the field. She gathered up three other squads of wolves. The Wings seemed to stick to the flanks, either avoiding the Space Marines or hunting down fleeing enemies. They were about to move beyond the first trench when Emma saw the Baneblade tank coming towards them, accompanied by a battalion of Leman Russ Tanks and more of the mechanical skittari warriors jittering towards them.

The sight sent a pulse of frozen water through her veins. "Scatter! Scatter! Don't give them a big target!" She ran. Launching herself forward, Emma dived headfirst into the first trench. The landing was rough but not as hard as she was expecting. Once again, she could thank her armor for absorbing most of the force, even if her back bit when she breathed. Beyond the trench´s lip, Emma could hear the tanks coming closer with the jangling of gear-filled joints mingling with the _clang_ of the tanks treads.

"Galatea." Emma opened the vox. "We´ve got heavy incoming beyond the first trench. Can you drop mortar shells on them?"

" _No_." Galatea´s answer almost made Emma curse at the Palatine. " _The Space Marines you have gathered have sprinted past the trench and are aiming to take on the tanks head-on._ "

Emma had to look to her side to be certain of what Galatea was saying. While the trench was wide, once it got past three ranks of sisters, Emma had no way of seeing them. But the wolves were large, bulky warriors and the winter-grey armor they wore would have stood out against the sisters' black armor. If the wolves where in the trench, Emma would have seen them. She peered over the trench and like Galatea had said, they were charging the tanks.

"Do they think these tanks are just scrappy vehicles?" Emma frowned under her helmet. "Damn fools." She cursed quietly so none would hear her insult the Adeptus Astartes. She turned back to her sisters. "Split into units of five and spread out. If you clump together the heretics will just be getting a bigger target to aim for." Emma waited for the sisters to form into groups. "Wait for my signal." She opened a vox link to Anna and relied the plan and the situation.

" _We will wait for your command._ " Anna replied.

 _At least my sisters are willing to listen._ "Move!" Emma pulled herself out of the trench and was immediately meet by another of the mechanical warriors. The machine controlled warrior seemed more surprised to see her them Emma was to see it. And that quickly sealed its fate. With only one quick slash, Emma cut of the dome-shaped head. The joints gave of a twitch before it clumsily folded down onto itself.

The wolves were still running towards the tanks. Any mechanical warrior that felt brave, or was just stupid, enough to charge the wolves were quickly torn to pieces by the Space Marine´s superhuman strength. Despite what their agreement, they showed no regard for the sisters, only charging forward like a pack of bold beasts. Part of Emma was furious with them for not listening, but another part of her was just little bit thankful for their brash disregard. The wolves formed a solid frontline of armor and muscle that seemed to draw most of the heretic's attention.

Despite running so fast her throat had gone dry and her thighs were starting to throb with pain, there was no chance for her to catch up to the wolves. Not only did their size make every step they took worth two of Emma´s, but by the time Emma had taken one step, the wolves had taken three.

"For Russ and the Allfather!" The wolves roared as they reached their first tank. To Emma´s surprise she saw one wolf running back. He wasn´t one of the ones Emma had gathered up. He had a thick rust colored beard running down his breastplate with the mop of hair on his head. His face was marred by time. He wielded a cross shaped shield and crackling power axe.

"FALL BACK, YOU FOOLS!" He bellowed but few of his brothers seemed to notice or listen to his commands. Some did head his commands and fell back but others either chose to ignore him or they didn´t hear him. They climbed on top of the battle tanks, tearing the hatches of tanks and either yanking their crew out and tossing them aside like ragdolls or dropping grenades into them. One of them howled in triumph as he tore a soldier in half with his bare hands.

Gritting her teeth, Emma looked to her flank and saw that the wolves Anna had gathered seemed to have charged ahead just as eagerly, but they heeded the old wolf´s command and slowed their pace down.

" _FALL BACK!_ " The old wolf roared with thunder in his voice. It was only now that his brothers seemed to notice the Baneblade lining up its cannon with them. They scattered but for some it was too late, the blast of the shell obliterated the tank and knocked anyone close by to the ground. Thick pieces of shrapnel buried themselves into the power armor and limbs were thrown into the air. Several of them laid on the ground with blood seeping from the cracks in their armor.

The old wolf turned, activated his power shield and snarled through clenched teeth.

Emma signaled for the other groups of sisters to fall to the flanks and avoid the Baneblade. She and the four sisters with her stayed on the front. The wolves did the same, now seemingly forgotten what the old wolf had shouted, they moved to run up to him but he quickly stopped them by raising his axe.

"Don´t play to them!" He shouted as a hail of bolter rounds started hammering against his shield.

A few stray bolters flew past Emma and one gave her armor brief kisses. _We´re just plain targets to them._ Emma gestured for her sisters to take cover behind a small hill. The wolves did the same when the hail grew into a storm as the Leman Russ Tanks lined up with the Baneblade and unleashed their gathered firepower. Emma peered over the edge and saw the old wolf brazing against the bolters with his shield. At first the shield´s power field had simply absorbed the bolters with splashes of white sparks. But now, it was starting to become overwhelmed. The bolters either shattered or passed through entirely, punching against his grey armor.

"Space Wolves!" Emma shouted and one of them turned his head. "Throw smoke grenades if you have them!"

He nodded in response and made sure his brothers knew it as well. Together they tossed grenades that exploded in thick grey clouds. Now would have been a chance to fall back. To regroup and gather her forces up, but Emma guessed that the wolves would never do that. Even if they had to charge through smoke and be faced with a torrent of bolter rounds, they would never leave their brothers to die. Emma thought back to when Johana was trapped under the collapsing trench and, for once, she could understand the wolves and why they wouldn´t fall back. She weighed the risk of falling back again, exposing their backs to the enemy while leaving the wolves stranded. It was a simple decision.

Emma activated her blade and raised the sword. "Charge!" She ran in line with the wolves. For a few steps before they sprinted past her and disappeared into the smoke. As Emma heard her sisters behind her and as the smoke engulfed her, she had to wonder if she had let them into the maw of the beast.

Despite her helmet shifting between multiple modes of vision, from infrared to night vision, the smoke filled Emma´s sight. It was only thanks to the cogitator´s built in compass that Emma could tell where she was running. It of course didn´t hurt that she could hear the barks of the bolters growing louder with every step.

The smoke parted suddenly, as if she was breaching the surface of water. The sudden combination of light and shape felt dazzling. Emma blinked and realized just how lucky she´d gotten. She had ended up at the front of a Lemans Russ Tank, between its bolters and underneath its cannon.

Emma rushed up to the tank and climbed on top of it. As she rolled on top of the front, she looked back and saw her sisters coming out of the smoke. She saw some of them getting killed by ending up right in line with the heavy bolters. The ceramite of their armor would only absorb the first few bolters before the armor cracked and then there was only soft flesh to absorb the bolts.

There was no time to think about it. Emma turned the sword in her hand and stabbed the hull of the tank. The blade returned with blood dripping from its tip. She stabbed a few more times and more blood was added to the screaming sword. She felt something slamming into her head and shoulders. She looked up and saw a guardsman at the tank´s hatch-gun. He was screaming as the weapon spat flashes of white light that slammed into Emma´s armor. At least a dozen bullets must have pounded into her, each feeling like a hard fist ramming into her naked skin. She rolled along the tank´s hull until she was stopped by the cannon´s barrel. She drew her boltpistol and fired a few shots at the guardsman before he ducked into the hatch, leaving only his hand on the machine gun.

The cannon started turning and the barrel started pushing Emma of the tank. She leaped of the tank and ended up staring down the tank´s side mounted heavy bolter. Before the weapon had a chance to fire, Emma rammed her sword in between the bolter and tank. She felt her sword cutting into the cogs and wires that controlled the weapon. She forced herself to lift the weapon upwards, cutting through the hull and plating, leaving a wound oozing black oil and squirting hydraulics fluid. The bolter stared blankly at her.

"Anna." Emma called through the vox. "Come down from the flanks and surround them."

" _It will be done._ "

Emma took a breath, feeling the sweat rolling down her cheek and making her skin sticky. She climbed back onto the tank. The hatch was closed and the cannon had shifted back to the front. Emma wondered why they hadn´t just attacked her while she was at the tank´s flank. And then she saw why.

The old wolf stood on the neighboring tank. He had torn a massive wound in the tank´s hull with his axe and had butchered the crew inside, splattering his sky-grey armor with blood. Flashing his fangs, he looked up at Emma.

The gaze of the old wolf´s, narrow, yellow eyes made Emma fell a chill running across her skin. She could fell the animalistic savagery behind those eyes. But there was also a rage and frustration. It twisted his expression, giving him a face that was more of a bloodthirsty beast than a staunch warrior.

With slaver hanging from his lips, the old wolf leaped of the tank and cleaved the side mounted bolter of the tank Emma stood in half with a brutal strike of his glowing power axe. Under her feet, Emma could feel the tank moving. It was trying to retreat. Emma drove her sword down into the tank´s treads. The thin plating that covered the treads gave almost no resistance to the lightning-wrapped blade, but once it was down into the treads she could feel the weapon tilting as the joints started dragging it. Emma grabbed the handle with both hands and pulled every ounce of strength she had left. Her muscles screamed with pain. She shifted, so she ended up underneath blade but it made little difference. The sword timbered slowly until the pommel of the blade was pushing down on her shoulder. It quickly dug in and Emma was quickly pinned under her own weapon. Bit by bit it squeezed her. Emma could feel the bones in her shoulder starting to creak.

Then she suddenly lunged herself forward and almost fell of the tank as a result. She looked at her hand saw that the blade was broken about the halfway down the length of it. Back where she had stabbed the sword into the ground, the blade stood at an angle before slowly pressing down on the tank´s plating.

A feral, growling roar came from the other side of the tank and the machine came to sudden stop following a deafening metallic _clang_. Emma hardly had time to rise before the old wolf had climbed on top of the tank. He gave her a quick look and offered his hand. Emma took it and the old wolf threw her into his arms before leaping of the tank. The moment after it was obliterated in an explosion of white light and oily, black smoke.

The force of the blast threw the old wolf into the wreck of another demolished tank. His back crashing against the plating before he tumbled to the ground with Emma in his arms. Grunting and breathing through a clogged respirator, Emma climbed to her feet next to the wolf. They rushed back to the flaming wreck and pressed their backs against it for cover.

"The Baneblade?" Emma asked as she noticed the dozens dents and scratches across the old wolf´s armor.

"Aye." He answered with his fang laid bare.

"What´s your name?"

"Hjalmar." The wolf walked towards the edge of the wreck.

"Emma." She activated the vox and connected with Anna. "Status?"

" _Attacking the flank but it's going slow. The Wings cannot take to the air with this amount of firepower._ "

"The wolves?"

" _Fighting on the front, but they can´t move forward because of the Baneblade._ "

Emma looked back to the fortress and looked around the destroyed Leman Russ Tanks surrounding the Baneblade. She opened another link.

"Galatea." Emma didn´t wait for an answer. "Take aim for the Baneblade but do not fire until I give the command."

" _Understood._ "

"I need you to draw the Baneblade´s attention." Emma said and Hjalmar looked at her with a furred brow raised.

"Do you have a plan?" He asked.

"I´m going to ram my sword into the tread wheels and give my sisters the signal to start dropping mortar shells on it."

"Think a broken blade will stop it?"

"No." Emma replied bluntly. "But it will slow it down. Make it an easier target."

"Fair enough." Hjalmar agreed. "I´ll run out in front of it and you´ll come at it from the flank."

"Alright." Emma said and the old wolf walked past her to the front of the demolished Leman Russ Tank.

"Ready?" Hjalmar asked without turning.

"Go." Emma darted out from the tank and ran towards the Baneblade. She saw the side mounted lass cannons turning. A pair of glowing, red beam shoot from the spear shaped muzzles.

Emma shifted and ran to towards the rear of the tank, feeling the blood burning cold inside her muscles and hearing the beams scorch the ground behind her. If those beams just scraped her, they would melt clean through her armor and burn her flesh away so fast she would not be able fell it. But then there was a small _clang_. Not loud enough to be Hjalmar attacking the tank but not small enough to be a bolter casing hitting the ground. Emma glanced to her right and saw what she was hoping for. The las cannon had turned as far as it could and had stopped itself on the edge of its own port.

Making a sharp turn by planting her heel into the ground, Emma ran towards the exposed tread wheels on the tanks rear. The Baneblade tried to turn but quickly realized that it had managed to box itself in with the wrecks of destroyed Leman Russ Tanks.

"TO ME BROTHERS!" Hjalmar shouted. "GIVE THESE BLOODY TANKS SOMEHTING TO AIM FOR!"

It took Emma a little longer to reach the tank then she had imagined. But when she reached it, she rammed her shattered blade in between the metal links behind the treads and the drive wheels turning the tracks. The handle was immediately pulled out of her hand and lodged itself into one of than wheels before it snagged and grinded against the metal in a shower of sparks.

 _It won´t hold for long._ Emma realized. "Galatea, take the shot. Shoot!" Emma ran from the tank as quick as she could.

" _You´re too close to the Baneblade_."

"Do it now!" Galatea was right of course. If the mortar shell landed this close, Emma might be killed by the blast as well. But if they didn´t do it now the sword was going to break and the Baneblade fall back. "Do it!"

No answer came and behind her, Emma could hear the blade breaking a second time and the wheels started turning again.

 _Dammit._ Emma cursed.

A sudden shockwave pushed Emma over, covering her visor with wet mud. She barely had time to absorb what happened before a second blast came. This one was followed by a groan that rivaled storm clouds. Something glanced against Emma´s backpack with enough force to give Emma strike of pain that reached from the center of her back to the tip of her fingers. She rolled over and saw what had become of the Baneblade. In the place of the mobile war-fortress, there was a crushed, smoking carcass of the great war machine remained.

Emma gasped for breath. Her ears rang with a sharp, piercing noise but it was slowly fading and the sound of her weary breaths was gradually taking its place. Struggling to keep her balance, Emma rose and fumbled for her boltgun before she realized it wasn´t there.

" _Surr…_ " Anna´s voice came through the vox with thick distortion.

"What?" Emma replied.

" _They are surrendering._ " Anna voice came through with a short window of clarity before distortion filled the vox again.

Emma only had to glance around her to confirm what the standard bearer was saying. From the tanks that weren´t destroyed, guardsmen came crawling out of. Slowly, and trembling, they rose from the hatches with raised hands.

Behind her, Emma´s sisters where gathering up, their weapons drawn and ready. To her side, Hjalmar was still grunting through clenched teeth. His brothers seemed to be more frustrated about to sudden stop to the fighting then him. Several of them were making fake charges, stopping only when Hjalmar noticed them.

The guardsmen gathered up in a row before the sisters, their arms raised high above their heads and the color completely drained from their faces. A silence fell over things. None of the guardsmen dared to say a word.

When the Canoness was faced with her enemies surrendering, she would have them killed without a second thought. _It´s simple. The heretic is tainted. Only fire can purge them._ Emma swallowed. If she waited for too long, Sophia would arrive and the Palatine would make the decision for her.

"How do we know this isn´t another trick?" Emma said.

One of the guardsmen looked over his shoulder and made a gesture with his arm. The line of guardsmen parted and they presented them with a man dressed in a long coat. His hands were tied behind his back. They dragged him before Emma and pushed him down to his knees before walking slowly back to their line.

Emma squatted down and lifted his low hanging head by his hair. Despite the stream of blood running from his wound, covering half his face in crimson, Emma recognized the smug grin on his lips immediately.

"We accept your surrender." Emma said as a ship traveled over her head.


	34. Chapter 31

The black rose chapter 31

The Inquisitor scratched his cheek. Still red from shaving, it stung but that was exactly what he wanted. Something to drown out the angst gnawing at his mind.

The ship had landed outside the fortress. When the landing pod opened, Derik was met with the sight of hundreds butchered bodies in the gateway. The sight of blood and guts made him flinch. He walked out of the ship and heard metal shrapnel crunching under his boots. When he looked down he saw the remains of a tech warrior. Beside it was the corpse of an ogryn. The blood that had oozed from the massive gash in its chest was already starting to crust.

"You´re already here?" A loud voice asked behind him.

Derik turned and as he expected, there was Hjalmar Hargen. His armor was battered, his shield scratched and his axe bloody. Behind him, the Sisters of the Hawk came with the Space Wolves marching in front of them.

"I came to see how the battle was going." Derik said. "Seems like you won." The Inquisitor put on a smile.

Hjalmar growled and looked back at the sisters. "Seems the Sisters of the Hawk decided to do something strange."

"What did they do?"

"You´ll know so enough." Hjalmar walked past Derik, leaving the Inquisitor in silence as the other Space Wolves followed their brother-captain.

Derik signaled for his ship to take off and walked up to meet the sisters. He recognized the first one that came for him and his spirit sank.

 _She wasn´t very supportive of me before. Doubt she´ll be now._ "Sophia." Derik greeted her with an elegant bow.

"Inquisitor." She replied with an edge to her voice. "Are these Adeptus Astartes here by your command?"

"I requested their presence, but the choice to arrive was theirs." Derik could see Sophia´s fist closing.

"You´re a bold, _bold_ man." She said and walked past the Inquisitor leaving him once again alone on the battlefield.

Derik drew a sigh of relief and watched other the sisters. It was only now that he could see what Hjalmar had meant. Among the ranks of the sisters, were captives. Their hands were tied and some of them even having still bleeding wounds, but alive nonetheless. The one thing that surprised him even more was the fact that he couldn´t find the Canoness among the sisters.

* * *

Derik walked through the courtyard and was quickly met by the Palatine of the Tail.

"Inquisitor." She greeted him.

"Galatea. A pleasure."

The Palatine immediately asked about the Space Marines, and once again, Derik gave Galatea the same explanation as he had with Sophia.

"Thank you, Inquisitor." Galatea said. "Some of my sisters will not admit it but if it weren´t for the wolves we would not be talking right now."

"May I ask," Derik said. "where is the Canoness?"

"She´s dead. Killed by an ogryn out on the battlefield."

At first Derik struggled not to show his joy at the news. But it was quickly replaced with dread. The Hawk was now headless. "Will you elect a new Canoness?" He asked.

"Not now. And not by us." Galatea said.

"Who will elect the new Canoness then?"

"The Emperor will judge those who offer themselves as worthy. But it will not be until the war is over. But the Talons will not stand without a Palatine. We will decide on that now."

Derik chewed on the inside of his cheek. "I would like to be part of this election."

"As an inquisitor, I do not have the right to refuse you." Galatea said. "But some of my sisters do not feel the same way."

Derik placed a hand on Galatea´s shoulder. "My wish is not to weaken the Sisters of the Hawk. I rather have the opposite in mind, I want you to be the strongest you can be. So, you can aid in the fight to stop the black crusade."

"Do you know if the black crusade is coming?"

"No." Derik admitted. He was about to continue but Galatea spoke up before he could say anything more.

"As I said, I cannot stop you from attending. I can only advise against it."

"I´ll attend."

* * *

A few hours later, the Palatines of the Tail and the Wings along with the Inquisitor and the Standard Bearer of the Hawk had gathered inside the fortress´ commander´s quarters. Sophia threw a harsh gaze at Derik the moment he entered the room. Derik didn´t pay her much mind, rather he simply sat down in a chair and waited.

"To the matter at hand." Galatea rose from her chair. "Our Canoness, stoic and righteous, died this day. Killed by heretics while defending the resting ground of the Holy Maiden of Astroya, she died bravely. Like the servant of the Emperor of Mankind she was."

 _Like the fool she was._ Derik commented to himself.

"While the election of a canoness will have to wait, we can elect a new Palatine of the Talons now." Galatea finished before sitting down at the table.

"Do any of you have any candidates?" Derik asked. He assumed that the other sister sitting at the table would be next in line, given her status.

"Emma of the Talons." Galatea said.

Derik had dig to remember. He recalled the name but took a moment to see the face again. _Ah, yes. The beautiful one with soft golden hair._ Derik could see her again and thought about what he knew about her. _Young, obedient. It will be a gamble but better her than someone I don´t know anything about. Her age might make her naïve as well. It will probably not be difficult to keep under control. Doesn't hurt that she´s easy on the eyes either._

"You mean to nominate her?" Sophia said, her crackling voice marked by a stiff bitterness. "Emma the Belated. The same sister who allowed the heretics to surrender?"

 _So that was her doing._ Derik noted her title.

"The very same." Galatea answered with a voice that was calm on the surface but Derik could fell the anger underneath.

"I´m unsure of that too." The Standard Bearer of the Hawk said. "I have been in the order longer and I have a higher rank than her."

"I know, Anna. But ask yourself this; when the heretics had you surrounded out there, who was it that took control over the situation and stopped the trap from closing around you? Who was it that lead you to face the Baneblade alongside the wolves?"

"You are right." Anna withdrew. "If it weren´t for her, we would have been slaughtered out there. The wolves would have arrived too late."

"When it comes to the field of battle, the commander's skill with the sword means less than their ability to see and feel their forces, and the forces of their enemies." Galatea said. "It's not the first time Emma has shown a talent for command either. When laying siege to the fortress, it was thanks to her that we managed to destroy the tank squad guarding the outer gate."

 _Soo…_ Derik folded his fingers together. _Its two against one._

"Inquisitor." Anna turned to Derik. "What´s your opinion on this?"

 _Time to enter the stage._ "What did she do during the battle?"

"I didn´t see all of it. At first I was at the Canoness side. I didn´t see or hear much from Emma until she ordered a full retreat."

Derik noticed Sophia glaring at Anna. "In that case, I say bring her here. We shall have her questioned and then I´ll see what I think of the matter."

"I´ll go get her." Anna quickly left the room.

* * *

Emma was in the great hall. She was leaning against the wall dressed her simple robes, her necklaces of beads slowly crawling between her fingers as her sisters were either praying or reading from sacred scriptures.

The massive doors to the hall were closed but Emma could still hear the loud steps of one of the wolves entering the hall. He showed one door aside with ease. He had a shaven head and a brown beard. In his hand was a stake, the meat burned black. Emma recognized him from the battle field, and though the wolf had not seen her without her helmet he seemed to recognize her as well.

The wolf wandered up to her. "So," Tor said, while chewing on a piece of meat. "Emma, what are the Sisters of the Hawk doing in this fortress?"

"I could ask you the same question." Emma said. Without his armor, the wolf seemed smaller than before but she still had to crane her head up to look him in the eye. "And how did you recognize me?"

"Your scent. As for your first question." The wolf swallowed a greasy piece of flesh. "We came by request of the Inquisitor. We were originally planning to head into the Eye of Terror but my brother-captain Hjalmar seems to think it's a good idea to help the Sisters of the Hawk and aid the inquisition."

 _The Eye? Why would they want to go in there?_

"So, what about you?" Tor tore of another piece of meat with his teeth.

"We were on a mission to save the Maiden of Astryoa." Emma answered the wolf´s question. "But it we failed."

He gave of a low growl. "What happened?"

"I don´t know." Emma looked up at Tors large, brown eyes peering out from under his bushy brows. "She slit her throat the moment I found her."

"Bloody inquisitor." The wolf said with a bitter snarl.

"What do you mean?"

"The bastard told Hjalmar everything he knew about the Maiden the moment my captain doubted him." Tor let his upper lip be peel back, showing his canines underneath. "And he decided to keep it from you."

"What did he know?"

"That the Maiden was a psyker. That she was probably being haunted by the horrors of the warp."

Emma was lectured on the things that lurk in the warp. Of the madness that bestows those that see this twisted reflection of reality. "Are you sure of this?"

"When it comes to inquisitors there is a simple way to decide if they aren´t telling the truth." Tor said. "If their mouths are open, then their lying."

Emma folded her brows. "If that´s true, then why are you did you come on his behalf? Why didn´t you just ignore him?"

The wolf grunted and opened his mouth to answer but was interrupted when Anna came into great hall.

"Come with me." The standard bearer waved for Emma.

"Why?"

"The Inquisitor wants to put you under question."

Emma could hear the wolf chuckling grimly to himself. "Remember what I said."

"Let´s go." Emma said. _Vain wolf._

* * *

There was stiff silence in the room as Emma and Anna entered. Galatea, Derik and Sophia were all seated around the table. Galatea gave a quick nod of acknowledgement when they entered but both Sophia and Derik kept their eyes on Emma. Sophia´s gaze was hard and filled with distain. Something Emma could easily understand and manage. The Inquisitor´s gaze, on the other hand was more leering, eager almost. She could notice his eyes moving from up and down her body, the way that some men would look her before the act.

 _Stop that._ Emma wanted to say. _Stop staring at me._

Anna walked back to her seat at the table. "We brought you here because we have some questions for you."

"What do you want to know?"

"Tell us about the battle." Derik said, his elbow leaning on the table and his chin resting in his hand. "What did you do and why?"

Emma recalled everything she could of the battle. She just finished telling of the machine-warriors coming to attack their rear when the Inquisitor stopped her.

"Why did you assume to spread out like that?" He asked.

Emma felt his eyes carefully moving up and down between her lips and her breasts. "When the companies of the Hawk fight as one, the Wings ascend on the enemy's flank, making sure they are attacked on all sides. When I saw the ambush, I assumed the best way to absorb the impact would be to spread the Talons like the Wings and have our enemy surrounded."

"In other words, you responded to their trap with your own trap." Derik said. "Clever."

"Thank you." Emma replied with a cold tone that masked her discomfort.

"What about the prisoners?" Sophia asked. "Why did you accept the heretics surrender?"

Emma had to take a moment before answering. "I… I accepted their surrender because these men are not responsible for the heresy of their leaders."

Sophia´s face flared with anger. "So the Astartes who chose to follow their corrupt primarchs into heresy weren´t also guilty? The taint of chaos is an invisible corruption until it breaches the surface, and then it will be too late."

"That may be true, but they surrendered their leader to me." Emma folded her arms and flexed her muscles. "The man who boldly stood out in the open and waited for us to attack. He knows about us, and maybe he knows something about the other heretics."

The Inquisitor smiled. "She´s not wrong. A captured general can be more devastating than a thousand Space Marines. If we press him for information we will gain a massive advantage in the war."

"So you can have this war over with and use us in your defense against the black crusade?" Sophia asked.

"Yes." Derik admitted.

"Before you ask it, Sophia, he still has no confirmation that the black crusade is coming." Galatea said. "But I agree with him. If we get information from their general we could deal a decisive blow against the heretics and have this war at an end." She turned to Derik. "Then we will decide what to about the black crusade."

"Fine then." Sophia said. "Let´s put him under the flames. A minute of that and he will tell us everything we need to know."

"And two minutes of that he will confess his most intimate secrets." Derik said. "Three minutes under that and you have him confessing that he is the arch-traitor himself resurrected and walking among the living again in the shape of a mortal."

"What are you suggesting we do?" Galatea asked.

"Something different." Derik grinned. "But before we talk more on that, there is that other matter that we brought you here for." He turned back to Emma.

Emma felt her stomach twist as the Inquisitor flashed her his smile.

"Emma of the Talons." Derik said. "We brought you here for two reasons. We wanted to clarify what happened during the battle, and we wanted to asses you to see if you were worthy."

"Worthy of what?"

Derik turned back Galatea and Anna. "What do you say? Is she worthy of becoming the Palatine of the Talons?"

Emma felt her heart freezing. _Me? Palatine of the Talons?_

Galatea looked at her. One eye made of flesh, the other made of wiring and zooming lenses. "Yes."

"No." Said the Palatine of the Wings.

"Anna." Derik said. "What´s your vote?"

The standard bearer´s chest inflated before slowly sinking. "Yes."

"Then its settled." The Inquisitor rose from his chair. "Emma of the Talons, you have been elected as Palatine of the Talons. Do you accept?"

Her heart fluttered and her blood ran wildly through her veins. _Is this an answer to my prayer? Has the Emperor granted me a second chance?_ Emma placed a hand on her chest and thought of her son.

"I swear to on my oath, I will purge the unclean with holy flames, I will shun darkness with the light of the Emperor, I will lead the Talons to victory in his holy name." Emma kneeled with her head hanging. _I will see my son again._

"Then," Derik put his hand on Emma´s shoulder and she felt herself shiver by his touch. "By my authority as an inquisitor of the Ordo Hereticus. I, Derik Horst, elevate you, Emma of the Talons, to Palatine of the Talons. Rise…"

The final word slipped from his lips like a whisper and Emma´s lips curled.


	35. Chapter 32

The black rose chapter 32

"What's this?" He looked up from where he was chained. "My reward for not sharing my secrets? A beautiful sister to temp me into giving in?"

"Watch your tongue, Commander Jorno, or I´ll cut it out you." Emma frowned.

"We´ll that would be a shame for both of us. I´d lose the best part of myself and you´d have no way of getting anything out of me." He smirked and licked his lips.

Emma punched his jaw so hard that his lip broke. The hit staggered him but after spitting out a mouthful mixed with blood he just turned back to her with the same satisfied grin as before.

"Anger really becomes you." Jorno stared at Emma with golden-brown, longing eyes. "It must be maddening, being so beautiful and spending your life around those who, at worst cannot appreciate it and at best envy it. Is that where your anger comes from?" He shifted his position. "Well, I have seen better days but if you just slip out of those robes I´m sure I´ll be able to appreciate you more than you could ever imagine."

This time Emma punched him so hard she could feel knuckles cracking. It took the Commander longer to recover now. He winced from the pain and spat a broken tooth. But when he looked at her again, he was still smiling.

"Are you enjoying this?" Emma asked.

"More than talking to that soft inquisitor." Jorno chuckled with blood running down his chin. "Much more."

"You´re a disgusting man."

"I´m a simple man." He replied. "The simplest man you´ll ever met. I enjoy fighting. It's the one thing I´ve always been good at. But there is one thing I love. And that´s women. Especially those that beat me."

"So women beat you often?"

He made a grim chuckle from his chest. "Ouch."

 _Why is he so damn confident?_ She thought back to what the Inquisitor told her before entering the room. " _Everyone values something. Everyone wants something._ " Though Emma wasn´t fond of Derik, it was difficult not to see the reason in his advice. She turned back to him, and he was sitting there, his brown eyes resting on her with a smile. Emma´s eyes narrowed and her brows sank. It just made his smile even wider.

"How are you enjoying this?" Emma asked. "How can you find any pleasure when you are both beaten and captured?"

"Like I said, I like fighting. It´s how I became a commander. But I love women far more."

Emma walked up to him and rammed her fist into his stomach, right underneath his ribcage. The air went out of him as he bent forward, trying to recover his breath even more.

"That´s it." He said between gasping breath. "Keep hitting me."

Emma just backed off. She folded her arms and glared down at him with scorn in her gaze.

"Oh, you are stunning." He said.

Emma upper lips twitched. "How can you relish this?" She growled.

He smiled with his split lip. "Pain is good. It tells me that I am alive. The more pain I fell the more alive I fell."

"Pain is pain. There is nothing good that can come from it."

He shrugged. "Pain. Pleasure. Daemon. Angel. It all depends on where you stand. I hear women feel immense pain when they give birth. Afterwards they cry with joy."

"I didn´t-" Emma stopped herself but it was too late. The words had slipped from her tongue.

"Oh, my." The grin returned to his lips. "Did you accidently slip out a little secret?"

Emma didn´t answer.

He sighed softly. "Not just strong and beautiful, but intriguing as well. You are a rare find. Tell me, what do you think will happened when I tell your sisters that maidenhood is not intact? Think they´ll burn you alive or cut your veins open and leave you hanging from the fortress wall?"

"Doesn´t matter what you say. I´ll just say that you´re spewing lies."

"Think they´ll believe that?"

"Who do you think they trust more? Their sister in battle or a heretic commander?"

He nodded. "Fair enough. But tell me, how come you gave birth?"

"Why should I tell you that?"

"Who´s better to tell? What better guaranty can you have that anything you say here will never leave this cell?"

 _I´ve already told my sister._ She wanted to say _. My secret is already outside of this cell._

Jorno chuckled to himself.

"What´s so funny?"

"It´s funny that you can be more honest with me, one of your enemies, a man who by your standards is a heretic, than you can with your own sisters of the battle." He chuckled again, waiting for Emma to join. "Come now, you must see the irony in it."

Emma saw it clearly. It was staring her blindly in the face, mocking and taunting her. She released a small laugh at it. _What a forsaken joke._ She leaned against the wall and slowly sank down until she was sitting at the same level as him. "I was a whore." She said with an earnest voice.

"Really? Tell me more?"

"And I got a child from a father I will never know and that child died before he could enter the world." Emma could feel the pressure behind her eyes but it wasn´t nearly as strong as she remembered. She just blinked and it was all gone. "There´s not much else to that story."

"Hmm… tell you what, I´ll tell you everything you want to know. On one condition." He marked with a finger. "One simple condition."

"What?"

"Kiss me." He smacked his bloody lips.

Emma kissed plenty of men when she was whore. But the mouth was usually the last place they wanted to be kissed. She walked over and squatted down in front of him.

The smile returned to his face. "Go on."

Emma took him by the throat and slammed his head against the stony wall behind him. "Do you think you are in control?" Emma said as she choked him with her hand. "Do you think you can tell me what to do?"

He gargled and fought to draw breath.

"No." Emma wrapped her lips around his. She sucked violently while keeping her fingers locked around his neck. She withdrew her lips from his with his upper lip trapped between her teeth. Slowly, she started to pull back, keeping his head where it should stay with her hand. The skin on his lip stretched until it grew pale. Suddenly, it snapped, leaving a small bit of his lip in Emma´s mouth and a splash of his blood on her robes.

Gasping for breath, he looked at Emma and she let go. She took a few steps back and spat the piece of his lip out of before his feet. He looked down at it, then back up at Emma. "I want you to kill me."

Emma´s brows jumped up her forehead. "Do you want to die? Don´t you fear death?"

A sigh slowly passed Jorno´s lips. "Doesn´t matter what we do. Death comes for all of us sooner or later. Most of us don´t have a choice or say in were and how we die. I know that there is no chance for me escape this fortress alive. Even if I, by some trickery could undo these chains and walk out this cell, I would never get more than three steps before on your sisters find me or the wolves catch my scent. The moment my men decided to betray me I assumed that your sisters would have me burned alive. You´ve got to admit, the Sisters of the Hawk aren´t known for having mercy. But seems one of you decided otherwise. Now I the chance choosing how things come to an end." His smile returned to his lips.

"How do you want to die, heretic?"

Again, he chuckled. "You can have me executed anyway you want, as long as it is by your hands. Promise me that, and I´ll tell you everything you want."

Emma´s fist recoiled. She wanted to punch his head again. She wanted to beat him so many times his head caved in and his brains would start to mix with the blood, and then she wanted to keep hitting him until her hands were broken. The arm flexed to the point that Emma could feel her nails digging into her palm.

He stared at her and smiled.

"You will tell the Inquisitor everything he wants to know. Then you will be dragged before my sisters and the wolves in the courtyard. I will execute you there."

"Make sure your face will be the last thing I see."

The fist started unfolding. She nodded and left the cell.


	36. Chapter 33

The black rose chapter 33

When Emma came back, she was surprised to see that the old wolf, Hjalmar, had entered the room. He was drinking something foamy from a large wooden tankard. Her sisters drank purple wine from thin glasses. The Inquisitor drank nothing.

Even outside of his armor, Hjalmar was massive. Even sitting down, he towered over everyone else in the room. When Emma closed the door, he lowered the tankard and licked the foam of his lips before setting it down at the table and looking at her with his large, grey eyes.

"So," Derik turned to Emma and glanced down at the blood on her robes. "How did it go?"

"He´ll tell you everything you want to know." Emma tried to wipe the blood of but only smeared it.

"You beat him?" Hjalmar asked.

"A few times."

"Must have been some hardy punches."

"I´ll go talk to him." The Inquisitor said.

"I´m coming to." Sophia said. "If a few beatings into his face was enough to get him tell, then I´ll make sure he doesn´t slip in any lies. I´ll kill him when the Inquisitor is done."

"Wait." Emma said before they left. "I promised him that I would be the one to execute him."

"I´ll make sure he stays alive long enough for that." The Inquisitor said before he left with Sophia.

Once the two of them were gone, Emma sat down in a chair next to the old wolf who had the tankard raised to his lips again.

Galatea offered Emma an empty glass but she turned it down.

"You don´t like to drink?" Hjalmar asked as a few flakes of foam flung from his lips and caught in his beard.

"I just never grew to like the taste." Emma glanced at the tankard in Hjalmar´s hand.

The old wolf just shacked his head. "I wouldn´t try that if I were you."

"Why not?"

Hjalmar tapped the tankard with a thick finger. "This is no ordinary mead. This is Fenrisian Ale, a brew so strong it eats through stomach of a normal human. Only Space Wolf can drink it without having their guts spilled inside their bellies."

"How about we dilute it then?" Emma proposed. "Surely that would make it drinkable for a normal human like me."

"No need for that." Hjalmar took the wineglass offered by Galatea and filled it with ale from his tankard. Before handing it to Emma he took a little bottle from his belt and poured the transparent liquid into the wineglass. He gave it a swirl so the two mixed. "Here you go."

"What did you pour into it?"

"A counter-toxin to make sure you can drink it without dying." Hjalmar raised his tankard. " _Skål._ "

Emma wasn´t sure what the phrase meant but she took her glass and raised it to his. The old wolf let his tankard tap her glass before he started drinking again. Emma raised the glass to her lips and looked down at the ale. It was golden-brown, with little shifting islands of foam floating on top of it. As Emma inhaled through her nose, she felt a strong, musky scent. It reminded her of the smell of tree sap. She raised the glass to her lips and let the ale flow into her mouth. The moment after it had slipped down her throat, Emma threw a violent coughing fit and almost dropped the glass.

Hjalmar laughed as he gave her a smack the back. "Strong stuff, eh?"

The cough took a moment to give in. Emma closed her mouth and let the air pass through her nose to make force herself to slow her breathing down.

"It was…" The words felt like dry paper being dragged against the inside of Emma´s throat. She took a swallow. "It was very strong, yes."

Hjalmar chuckled as he noticed the other sister looking at him. "Don´t worry. Give her a moment and the coughs will stop."

 _By the Emperor._ Emma gently massaged her throat. _The wolves like strong drinks. Is that what makes them so reckless?_

"Are you alright, Emma?" Galatea asked, rubbing her hand on Emma´s back.

"I´m fine." Emma assured her. "Just a little dry in the throat." Another cough leaped across her lips. She swallowed again

"You want another sip?" Hjalmar asked.

"No, thanks. But there is something else I want to ask you."

"What is it?"

"One of your brothers told me earlier about something that you and the Inquisitor discussed before arriving on this planet. He told me that the Inquisitor told you that the Maiden of Astroya, the Maiden we captured this fortress to take, was a psyker. Is that true?"

"Aye."

"The Maiden was a psyker?" Anna asked.

"Aye." Hjalmar put his tankard on the table. "Did the Inquisitor not tell you?"

"No." Galatea said. "He didn´t."

The old wolf growled to himself. Emma might not have heard it if she was not sitting next to him.

"But he wasn´t the only one." Galatea threw a look at Anna.

The door opened behind them. Derik and Sophia walked in.

"So?" Hjalmar asked. "Did he tell you anything?"

"Yes." Derik held up a piece of parchment with ink still drying. "He told me everything I wanted to know."

The Inquisitor and the Palatine sat down in their chairs. Derik handed the paper to Galatea. She read through it before handing it to Emma, who did the same before handing it to Hjalmar and so on. It was a rather comprehensive list of things the Inquisitor wanted to know. He had asked about everything from troops, to the generals on the side, to the locations of their enemies.

"So," Derik said when he was handed the parchment by Sophia. "what´s our next move?"

"Regardless of what we do after this war," Galatea said. "we need to put it to a swift end. The Maiden is dead, we failed our mission and have no reason for this fight to go on longer than it needs."

Emma could see the Inquisitor´s eyes brightening by Galatea´s words. "I agree." He said.

"Me too." Anna said.

Hjalmar simply nodded but Sophia remained silent.

"Well," Derik said. "how do we do that?"

"By dealing a harsh blow." Galatea reached into a pocket on the side of her robe and pulled out a map. She rolled it out on the table, using the wineglasses as weights to keep it from rolling back. "The information Jorno provided us is definitely useful. Because now we know where the heretics have their strongest allies." She pointed on a spot on the edge of land on the map, bordering on the ocean. "The house of Mountbatten."

"The Knights of the Blackwater." Anna said.

"Jorno claimed to come from one of their cousin families." Sophia said. "Heretics are always eager to betray each other."

"Why are they called the Knights of Blackwater?" Derik asked.

"Two reasons. One, because of their dominance of everything that surrounds their fortress." Anna said. "About three hundred years ago, a fleet of heretical Astartes tried assaulting them from sky. The fleet they sent was shoot down in a matter of hours, sending every last one of them crashing into to the ocean. Afterwards, the water was covered in thick oil."

"And so, the water never turned blue again." Emma said, remembering a story that her mother used to tell her.

"A bit exaggerated," Anna said. "But the water stayed black for weeks afterwards. None has dared trying to siege that castle ever since. Though they have been mostly keeping to themselves for most of this war, even if they have sworn allegiance to the heretics."

"How come?" Derik asked.

"We´ve been wondering that for some time." Anna said. "The second reason for their title is because they are one of the most powerful houses on the planet, being the only ones who have access to Imperial Knights." She turned to Galatea. "And you mean to send us there."

"You´ve got the wolves on your side to." Hjalmar butted in.

Galatea shook her head slowly. "It won´t be enough." She looked over at Derik. "We need the Imperial guard to join forces with us again."

"You didn´t part on the best terms." Derik said. "But if we share your plans with him, I´m sure Colonel Lup would see the sense in a quick end to this war."

"You want us to fight alongside the Imperial guard again?" Sophia said, frowning.

"Trust me." Galatea said. "We need them."

"The Imperial guard can be trusted." Emma reaffirmed. She turned to Hjalmar. "I´m not sure the same can be said for your brothers?"

"What are you saying?" Hjalmar´s eyes narrowed.

Emma took a breath. "When I was out there on the battlefield, your brothers charged ahead despite having agreed to follow my sisters and stay in formation. Even when you told them to hold their ground, they still ran forward."

Hjalmar growled behind closed lips. "Why are you telling me this?" The silver-grey eyes stared down at Emma.

"I took an oath. To never tell any lies. Lies are the tools of the heretic." _Seems like the truth is the tool of the fool._ Emma though nervously.

The old wolf rose slowly from his chair. "You´ve got some guts, Emma." A little smirk appeared on his lips. "Har!" He laughed so suddenly Emma almost jumped. "Aye, you´re not wrong." He sat back down in the chair. "My brothers are eager, bold and sometimes foolish. I´m not too proud to admit it but it's true."

"Good." Emma forced a smile to her lips.

"Don´t get it wrong." The intensity returned to Hjalmar´s eyes. "A Fenrisian wolf is not some lapdog. It cannot be tamed and it cannot be controlled."

Emma gave a nod of acknowledgement.

"A slave to the truth." Derik said. "But there is the matter of Jorno´s execution. Emma, you promised him you would be the one to do it."

"And I will keep my word." Emma said. "But I will need a new sword."

"What happened to the old one?" Galatea asked and Hjalmar chuckled to himself.

"It broke in half." _And you blow the rest to oblivion._

"We´ll have a new one made." Galatea said.

"How will it be done?" Anna asked.

"Take him out to the courtyard, have it so that everyone can see it and then I´ll cut his head off."


	37. Chapter 34

The black rose chapter 34

The Inquisitor´s tech-priest examined the edge of the blade with a pair of stalked, yellow eyes. Fingers without joins, covered in metal stroked the edge like an artist inspecting a painted canvas. The tech-priest turned the blade around and inspected the other side with the same care.

Once finished with the review of the weapon, the blade was placed on a pedestal before being presented with a new handle, just as freshly made as the blade itself. Gently grasping the segmented fingers around the handle, the tech-priest gently inserted the blade into the handle until the two interlocked. With a mechanical accuracy, the tech-priest picked up the wires and cables that grew from the handle and connected them with sockets on the base of the blade.

"Your new blade, Palatine of the Talons." The tech-priest walked away from his creation in a hunched manner.

Emma let her fingers rest on the handle. Then they slowly wrapped around it. It felt a little lighter than she was expecting. She looked at the blade and saw the twisted reflection of her golden hair in the white steel. Pressing the rune with her thump, the blade awoke with blue lighting running across it and the screams of a thousand birds.

She turned off the blade and saw the tech-priest staring at the blade with pride and aw. "Good work, Tayber." Emma said.

"My thanks." He presented her with the sheath of the weapon.

Emma took it and let her sword slip in.

* * *

She was walking through the halls of the fortress when she noticed her. Black hair hanging lose on her head. Brown eyes.

"Johana." Emma said.

"Emma." She glanced down at the blade at her hip. "A new sword."

"Yes." Emma put a hand on the handle. "It´s not the only thing that's new."

Johana gave her a puzzled look.

"I am the new Palatine of the Talons." Emma said.

Something flashed in Johana´s. Something dark. Whatever it was, it appeared and disappeared by the time Johana blinked. She bowed before Emma. "My Palatine."

"Please," Emma asked. "Don´t call me that."

"What should I call you then?"

"How about you still call me, Emma, Sister Superior?"

Whether out of joy or terror, Johana looked like she was about leap into the air. "Are you certain?"

"Yes."

Johana bowed again, this time down to her knee. "I thank the Emperor for this blessing." She looked up at her sister. "But I cannot accept it."

Emma felt a stab in her chest. "Why not?"

"Because of the oath taken on my initiation. As per the wishes of my father, I pledged to rise in the ranks of the Sisters of the Hawk or meet death while slaying the vilest traitors to Imperium. I am tainted and unclean. I can´t rise in the ranks anymore. Only one thing remains for me now."

"I am a lying whore." Emma said. "And an agent of the Emperor´s will saw it fit to let me rise to the Palatine."

"Does he know?"

Emma knew exactly what Johana was asking for. The answer was simple. Just a single word. Or just a simple movement with her head.

Johana sighed. "He doesn´t. Does he?"

"No." Emma admitted. "He doesn´t."

"My path will end, Emma. I tried and I failed to live up to the legacy of my father. I can only hope to redeem his honor with my death." Johana turned and was about to walk away from her sister when Emma took her by the arm. She presented her with the sword.

"As Palatine of the Talons, I command you to take this sword. You may not return it until your duty is over. Lose it, destroy it or die, and you will have failed the Talons of the Hawk." Emma squeezed her arm.

Johana´s lips twisted. Emma could see her eyes starting to water but nothing escaped them.

 _Accept it._ Emma felt her lip trembling.

Johana took the sword and Emma let go of her hand. "By the order of my Palatine, I accept this command."

"Good." Emma said, feeling her voice hardening. "Tomorrow, at the execution, you will present me with your sword."

"I will, Palatine."

* * *

That night, Emma stared up at the black void in her room. The blanket was gathered up at her feet, she let the cold bite her skin. A gentle sigh passed her lips. One hand was pressed behind her head, the other was resting softly on her stomach. Two fingers tracing short circle on her belly. Beneath them, she felt a rock. A cold, black and hard thing pressing up against her chest. As she closed her eyes, she could feel it growing larger.

* * *

The air was filled with noise. Emma stood on a raised platform in the center of the courtyard, with a wooden stub serving as executioner's block. Johana was at her side, her own sword sheathed in her hands and Emma´s new blade on her hip. Behind her was Galatea and the Inquisitor. The crowd that filled the courtyard were both the Sisters of the Hawk and the Vlka Fenryka. The sisters were talking vividly between one another but in comparison to the wolves, they might has well have been whispering. The savage warriors released barks of laughter and talked in thick, bellowing voices.

Then silence slowly fell across the crowd like a ripple. It started in the far end and quickly traveled to the center before running to the far end. The sisters and the wolves parted as Sophia, accompanied with four of her sisters of the Wings marched forward. Even from were Emma was standing it was difficult to see anyone else but she knew what the Palatine of the Wings was bringing.

 _There he is._ Emma saw him. _The broken commander._

Jorno´s hands were tied behind his back. He was still wearing his uniform and coat. Stained with both blood and mud. Despite Sophia pushing him, Jorno kept his head held high and grinned on seeing Emma again.

Emma grasped her arm and tried to keep her face still but Jorno displayed his satisfaction all the same.

He climbed the platform and Sophia put him in front of the block.

Emma was about to reach for the sword when Galatea stepped forth.

"Jorno," Galatea said. "commander of the Iron Eagles, you have been found guilty of heresy against the Imperium of Man and the Emperor of Mankind. These are crimes without redemption. Your sentence is death by the sword." Galatea pointed toward Emma with her unbroken arm. "Do you have any last words?"

He blinked slowly, dried mud crusting on his eyelids. He looked over at Emma, then he glanced past her and looked at Johana. His entire face lit up with a sudden, arrogant delight as he calmly shacked his head.

Galatea gestured towards Sophia and the palatine pushed Jorno down to the block. Though there was no need for it, she held him in place. Galatea steeped aside to let Emma forth.

Emma drew her sword from Johana. She walked up to Jorno. Though she was eager to cut his head off, she stopped to utter the final words.

"I, Emma, Palatine of the Talons, am here to carry out your execution."

Jorno smirked, the contented edge marking the corners of his mouth. He said before closing his eyes and presenting his neck.

Emma raised her sword and let it fall.


	38. Chapter 35

The black rose chapter 35

"Soo that is the plan?" Colonel Lup´s holo-pict cracked and split.

"It is." Derik said when the signal stabilized. "The combined forces of the Vlka Fenryka, the Sisters of the Hawk with the Imperial guard will deliver a blow that will force the heretics to surrender."

"We will accept." The Colonel´s reply came through some severe crackle but Derik knew those words well enough. "My forces are caught in a stalemate with the heretics in the hive city Molncel. If you reinforce our ranks we might be able to force the heretics to surrender and we can join you afterwards."

"Thank you, Colonel." Derik closed the signal and drew a sigh of relief. He knew it wouldn´t be difficult to convince him but it was crucial.

 _Now,_ Derik rose from the chair. _To have some kind of celebration._ He looked around himself. He only ever used the intercontinental ship for smaller, shorter trips. It was rare for him to stay there for any length of time but he was certain there was a bottle hidden away somewhere in of the compartments.

The cogitator blinked with a blue light.

Derik grunted and worried about what might come. He accepted the incoming signal and was immediately meet with image of General Ironfield.

"Corey?" Derik asked, remembering their last meeting. "What happened?"

"I am worried about letting this conversation going on for too long." The young general replied. "Alfred is having his tech-guild plant promethium dispensers all over the capital. He is preparing to purge everyone here of sin."

The hairs on the back of Derik´s neck stood up with a cold jolt. "How long is this construction gone?"

"I don´t know. It may have been finished for some time or it may not even be halfway completed."

"Is this what you wanted to talk about last time you contacted me?"

"Yes."

Derik rubbed his chin. "How large is the tech-guild in the capital?"

"At least two thousand tech-priest and who knows have many servitors. But there is one more thing; the master of the guild, Lepario Domani, is a genius, brilliant tech-priest. He aided the Sisters of the Hawk in perfecting their promethium formula and I harbor little doubt that he has made some new machines to speed up the process of constructing these new promethium dispensers."

 _Turning the capital into a city washed in flames._ "Damn it all." Derik cursed through clenched teeth.

"Why is he doing this?" Corey asked. "What has caused him to want to set the entire city aflame?"

"Because of me." Derik said. "I´ve taken the Sisters of the Hawk away from him, and now he wants to take out his anger on a hive city."

"And I´m going to burn with it. Any moment those white flames might pour out from muzzles and pipes all across the city."

"Not at any moment." Derik noted.

"What do you mean?"

"He is doing this because I´ve taken the Sisters of the Hawk away from him. He´s not going to let the capital burn, affectingly leaving the sisters to me."

Through the breaking holo-feed Derik could see the young general eyes widening as he absorbed the Inquisitor´s words. Derik could almost see his face draining of color.

"You are right." Corey said. "He is going to wait until the sisters return from the war and take them with him into the flames."

Derik was hit with a sudden realization. Regardless of what the sisters would decide to do, they would want to return to the capital, to greet their cardinal and presumably ask for his blessing before following they would follow the Inquisitor.

 _Even if I say my words stands above his, the nobles and generals that surrender after we battle the house of_ _Mountbatten are going to be taken to the capital for judgement by the governor himself. It will be a swift trial, with everyone receiving the same judgement and punishment._

"Does Alfred trust you?" Derik asked.

"He told me about it. But he looks at me the same way he would look at a boy."

 _Better than looking at you like an inquisitor._ "Talk to him. Make him see that the Sisters of the Hawk are still pure. That they are still fighting for the Emperor´s will and have now joined forces with his legendary Adeptus Astartes."

"Think that will make stop?"

 _No. Nothing short of the Emperor rising from his throne and telling Alfred to stop his foolishness will make him stop._ "I don´t know. But it´s better to keep him thinking and stalling rather than giving letting him work on his plan."

"It´s not going to be easy." Corey said. "If he thinks I´m trying to fool him I´m not sure what he´s going to do."

"Will it be better than burning in promethium?"

"I can only hope."

 _Hope is the first step on the road to disappointment._ Derik cited an old creed. "It´s better than surrendering." 

"I´ll try. For how long can you keep the sisters away from the capital?"

"Not long. The next move we make will be to end this war. After that there will be no stopping them from returning." _And once we return Alfred will be jumping up and down to release the flames._

"Is there anyone among the sisters you can trust with this?" Corey asked.

"There is one I definitely don´t trust. There is another who seems eager to obey, another is pretty but unsure and the final I can´t say anything for certain."

"If it comes down to it, what do you think they´ll choose?"

"Had you asked me two days ago, I´d have said that they would have chosen Alfred without blinking. Now, I have no idea, and I hope I don´t have to find out."

"What changed?"

"The Canoness died." Derik said. "Killed in battle by an ogryn." _And, more than likely, her own stupidity._

"Who´s leader of the Talons now?"

"A sister who goes by the name Emma the Belated." _A beautiful woman with a mind for the battlefield. I almost regret supporting her in the election now. She might just make the coming battle an easy victory. But without her the sisters might have been obliterated._

"The Belated? Why does she have that title?"

"I don´t know. Any ideas?"

"There was some rumor I heard off, about a sister being initiated at an age higher than most other sisters."

"Aren´t the sisters born into the order?"

"Born or given, but this one was entered the order when she was well past her first Terran decade."

 _Old. Old and odd. What was she doing during the rest of her years?_ "Anything on what she was doing before she became a Sister of the Hawk?"

"No." Corey said. "All I´ve heard is that she was a member of a small conclave and around the age of fourteen she joined the Sisters of the Hawk."

"Alright." Derik puzzled. "Try and keep Alfred from enacting his plan. If there are any important developments, don´t hesitate to contact me."

"I will. But don´t try to reach me. If Alfred get wind of what we are up to…"

"I know." _I´ve seen what men with power will do when they feel threatened._ "Good luck." Derik closed the link and leaned back in his chair. _Quite a big blank in Emma´s life. Fourteen years. If she was the given by some noble house, there would have been some record or at least mention of it. In that case… its more likely that she´s from some low-born. Might have been an altar girl of a church._ Derik paused. _But if she was just some altar girl, why was Sophia so infuriated by her rise to Palatine? Might just be because she wasn´t trained from birth or was just some lowly girl from what she saw as a rotten, or at best, unclean church. Either way, it´s strange._ Derik thought as he entered coordinates for Molncel.


	39. Chapter 36

The black rose chapter 36

The ground crunched under the tanks' clattering treads. Galatea stood on top of the Exorcist, mounting it like she was riding a giant war-beast. With her arm still healing, she couldn´t drive like she was used to and she would rather walk than sitting behind as someone else drove the tank. She enjoyed seeing the landscape passing by as she felt the tank drag itself across it under her feet, sitting in the behind while someone else drove would take half of that pleasure away.

Behind her, the fortress stood completely empty and abandoned. Stripped of everything from ammunition to weapons, the sisters and the wolves made sure nothing that fortress was left as a solemn, empty tomb for the Maiden of Astroya and the Canoness of the Sisters of the Hawk.

 _The Maiden was a speaker for peace of the mind, peace of the body._ Galatea spared a glance back at the fortress. _Though_ _her death was by all accounts far from any kind of peace, at least her resting place will be. She and the Canoness will share the Tomb of the Maiden._ Galatea tried the name. _The Shame of the Hawk. No, the Maiden should be remembered and our honored, our shame and failure should be absolved and forgotten._

"What do you think?" Galatea asked Lilly through the vox.

" _Of what?_ "

Galatea chuckled quietly to herself. "The Tomb of the Maiden. Think the fortress should be called that?"

" _I don´t know. I´ve never been much good with names._ "

"Well neither of us are scribes. We don´t get to decide what names battles are given or who´s names are written in the books."

" _But the Emperor will know._ "

"True." Galatea looked to the cloud covered sky. "The Emperor will know." _He will know everything._

The Talons were walking alongside the Tail´s tanks. Their new Palatine walking in the front, carrying her helmet under her arm, letting her shiny blond hair hang wildly. She stared forward with stoically cold eyes in a face that showed anything but the calm her eyes pretended. As if something was moving under the surface of a lake in winter, ready to breach the surface at slightest reaction.

The wings kept to the flanks, Sophia was walking in front in line with Emma. Though if Emma´s face was a calm basin with things stirring underneath, Sophia´s face was more akin to molten metal, constantly shifting and glaring at the new Palatine of the Talons and the Space Wolves walking among them. The wolves had spent the night after the battle on gathering and collecting their wounded along with the drop pods for transport into their Thunder Hawk ships. After the execution most of them returned, along with the prisoners, to their Battle Barge Ship, _Winter´s Wrath,_ hovering above them in orbit. Though it wouldn´t take the wolves long, the sisters decided to start marching along with the wolves remaining before they would return and load the sisters onto _Winter´s Wrath_.

To Galatea´s surprise, the captain of the wolves, Hjalmar Hargen choose to stay with the sisters until they could arrive on _Winter´s Wrath_.

 _Maybe he´s concerned about us._ Galatea thought as the wolf plodded forward with both his axe and shield strapped across his back. _Can´t blame him. I´m concerned about my sisters as well, like any palatine should be for her sisters._

"Hjalmar!" Galatea jumped of the Exorcist and hurried up to the old wolf.

"Aye?" Hjalmar turned to look down at the Palatine of the Tail.

"Why did you choose to walk with us? Why didn´t you go up to your ship with your brothers?"

Hjalmar shrugged. "I just prefer to walk on solid ground over the dead silence of the void." He slowed down his pace to let Galatea end up next to him. "She´s a brave one." He pointed an armored finger towards the Palatine of the Talon. "Brave with a mind for battle. Not the greatest mortal warrior I´ve come across, but there is rough, raw edge inside her. One that has yet to be hammered into shape."

"The furnace of war creates sharpest, strongest weapons."

"It also break those that cannot withstand the tempering."

"True." Galatea agreed. "Let´s hope this done doesn't shatter."

"Aye…" Hjalmar muttered. "Hope."

Galatea took a moment to think. "Think there is something else the Inquisitor´s hiding?"

"It´s more than likely that he is." Hjalmar said. "I don´t hold much love for his kind. They lie and keep secrets by their nature. There also clever and devious. I don´t think he´s not thought about the possibility that we would tell you the truth of the Maiden, but that was something he was willing to surrender to me when I pushed him."

"Truth be told, he told our Canoness before she died." Galatea said. "She didn´t believe her." _And it ended up costing her life._

"That may be." Hjalmar grunted. "But one truth does not dry out an ocean lies."

"So, tell me, how do you tell the drop apart from an ocean?"

"It´s simple." Hjalmar said. "You boil away the ocean until only to the drop remains."

"Purge the heretic with holy fire and only the naked truth will remain." Galatea said, quoting a venerable text.

"Seems we think alike." Hjalmar said.

"Not quite." Galatea said. "It´s not a saying that necessarily means that flames will strip people of their lies. It means that the truth is the only thing that withstands the harsh judgement of the Emperor."

"A bit dramatic." Hjalmar said.

"It has to be. It´s the only way to make people remember it."

"How?"

Galatea looked at the old wolf with a certain level of irony. "Would you remember it if I said the truth is the only thing the Emperor accepts?"

Hjalmar gave a small chuckle. "I suppose not."

"Think the Inquisitor would be honest with us if I told him something like that?"

"No. Trying to push an Inquisitor for information is like trying to hold onto an eel with slippery hands. The more you try to push them the more they squirm and wriggle."

"Regardless of what he has or hasn´t told the truth about, the Sisters of the Hawk have him to thank for your intervention."

"Aye, but we aren´t staying with you this war because of him."

"Then why are you staying in this war?"

Hjalmar paused and looked the sky. The Thunder Hawks were descending, ready to load up the sisters and their tanks. "For one thing. Redemption."


	40. Chapter 37

The black rose chapter 37

The inside of _Winter´s Wrath_ was small, slim almost when compared to the titanic size of the warship that Emma had seen before they docked. This wasn´t her first time leaving the planet, but she had never seen a warship of this size.

 _Nor one belonging to the mighty Adeptus Astartes._ Emma though as she was lead through a hallway by a set of navigation servitor. To her side where the palatines of the Tail and the Wings and the Standard Bearer with their forces following behind them. Emma wasn´t sure for how long they had walked. In her mind she tried to guess but it was impossible to tell with the twists and turns that the servitors took them on. Eventually they were lead into a hall that at first glance looked like a cathedral but when Emma had another look around she found it was something very different. Rather than depicting the God-Emperor of Mankind in statues or paintings, the walls were mounted with the heads of xenos beasts and broken weapons. From the overgrown, enormous heads of greenskinned xenos to shattered and cracked powerswords, it was a display of memorial.

Emma was so busy with watching the walls that she missed the wolves sitting at the sides of longtables covering the length of the cathedral. But they were quick to remind her of their presence.

"Sisters of the Hawk!" Hjalmar announced with open arms. "Welcome to the great hall of _Winter´s Wrath_. Come sit down. Drink and feast with us." Hjalmar sat down back down in his chair behind a table filled with roasted meat and sweet fruits. He gestured for sisters to join his brothers at their tables. Emma was about to take a seat next one of the wolves when Hjalmar called out for her.

"Emma!" He shouted with a voice that almost made her jump. "Why are you sitting down there?"

She had to pause before she realized what she meant. She walked past the wolves and her sisters, feeling their eyes on her as she walked up the old wolf´s table.

"Here!" Hjalmar offered her a tankard of ale when she sat down at the table. "Don´t worry, it's a weaker brew, and its only one part ale mixed with two parts water."

"Thank you." Emma accepted the tankard and took a shallow sip. The taste was thick and musty, almost like bread. When she swallowed it, she felt a short burn in the back of her throat but nowhere near as bad as the last time she tried it.

"Well grab something to eat." Hjalmar said, pulling a leg of the roasted animal. "I didn´t have all this food prepared so you could stare at it."

Emma had to admit she was hungry and took a sliced steak with the crude forks placed at the side of her plate. She also took a strange, yellow fruit from the plate next to it.

"Forgive me," Galatea said. "But there is a battle coming. Why are we feasting?"

"You just answered your own question." Hjalmar said while chewing on the meat from the leg.

"What?"

"When there´s a battle coming there is nothing better to do than remind yourself of why you don´t want to die." Hjalmar washed down his meat with a mouthful of ale.

"I can see your point, but it won´t be long before we have to assemble again. We need to make preparations and battle plans."

"I have to agree." Sophia said.

 _For once._ Emma thought.

"If we fail to plan we plan to fail." Sophia tapped the cords through her neck. "I made that mistake in a battle once. Once."

"We won´t be able to make any plans until we meet up with the Imperial forces." Hjalmar said. "And we won´t do that for at least another twenty hours. Until then, try to remind yourselves of what makes things in this galaxy worth fighting for."

"Fair enough." Galatea conceded. "But once we are done eating here we will gather for a meeting and lay out our plans."

"Alright." Hjalmar agreed and returned to his ale.

Galatea turned to Emma. "Try not to drink to much. Enjoy the food as much as you can but I want your head clear later."

Emma nodded in agreement and put her tankard down. She bit down on the fruit and licked her lips as the juices dripped down her chin. She savored the sour taste and stared blankly forward. She stared at the wolves, drinking, howling and laughing. Then she looked at her sisters, and at Johana. Most of them where quiet, reserved and still. Only a few had joined the wolves in their repast.

"Hjalmar," Emma said. "have you ever killed orks?"

"Har." Hjalmar barked a laugh through his beard. "I think the first thing I killed as a young blood was an ork. After that I can´t even remember how many of the greenskins I´ve butchered." He chuckled. "Have you ever gone up against the green xenos?"

"Never." Emma shock her head. "I´ve only purged heretics within this system."

"You´re missing something." Hjalmar said. "The orks fight like they are living for it. With no regard for anything or anyone that stands between them and a good fight. Completely mad howling beasts. I´m telling you, when you go up to a warboss two times your size and end up ripping the bastards head of with your bare hands… tell me something that feels better than that."

"A tankard of ale?" Emma shrugged.

"Har!" Hjalmar howled. "Not quiet but it´s pretty close."

Emma smiled faintly and took another sip of the ale.

"Felling it kick you in the back of your head yet?" Hjalmar asked.

"A little." Emma took another bite of the fruit. She quickly discovered the combination of flavors from the ale and the fruit mixed quiet well.

"Just don´t take in too much." Hjalmar swallowed another mouthful. "It´ll dull your mind."

"What about you? Shouldn´t you take it easy on the drink as well?"

Hjalmar burped loudly. "I can sink an entire flagon of ale before I start to feel my head swimming. Once sank two full barrels. My brothers told the day after that they had to hold me down to stop me from tearing down our armor barracks." He chuckled. "Sounds like I was having a good time. Only wish I could remember any of it."

The wolves kept feasting away the hours. Each one of them swallowed entire gallons of ale. Their thirst was only matched by their appetite. Emma could swear that she saw each wolf chew up an entire boar and yell for a second plate when the moment the meal was finished. The only thing that was relatively untouched was the fruit. Not that meant it was left alone, the wolves either took one bite, tossed it aside or crushed them in their fists, letting the juices drip into their mouths before they lifted their tankards.

The sisters were sedated in comparison. Emma could see one or two of them drinking the ale when it was offered to them and most of them ate the meat and fruit on the table but otherwise they sat quietly next to the Space Marines.

"Say, Emma, do you know the tale of how our father joined the Emperor?" Hjalmar said between emptying his third tankard and cutting up his second stake.

"I don´t believe I´ve heard if it." Emma knew very well of the tale of how the Emperor found his most prestigious son, the Lord of Ultramar, Roboute Guilliman. She also knew the tale of how he united his brother´s, the Loin and the Angel, to join forces to destroy the arch-traitors at the end of the Horus Heresy. They were stories that had been preached to her by priests and clerics alike long before she joined the Sisters of the Hawk. But the tale of Russ and his discovery was only she had read in passing in some old texts by the ministorum.

"Well," Hjalmar smiled with joy. "Do I have tale to tell. See our father grew up on the world of Fenris. He was raised by a pack of dire wolves. Took several decades before he even meet a normal human. Despite never having seen a human or talking to one, Russ showed enough strength and battle fury for the tribe that found him to take him into their ranks. And after that it only took him a few short years before he had conquered the entire planet. For years he ruled from his fortress of the Wolf. But then, one day, a stranger arrived on the planet. Cloaked in runes of disguise and confusion, the curious figure entered the court of the Wolf King. Most present in the castle bowed before the stranger, but not Russ.

"The stranger walked up to Russ without bowing. He simple asked for Russ to join him in his Imperium of man. Russ, of course, laughed so loudly that the hall started trembling. He rose from his wooden throne and told the strange that he would challenge him to three tasks, if the stranger beat him in at least one of them, Russ would swear to join him."

"What were these three challenges?"

"The first one was a challenge of drinking. Between them, they sank dozens of barrels ale until the stranger had surrender for fear of going blind." Hjalmar laughed as he took another mouthful from his tankard.

"The second challenge was of eating. The two ate enough to feed an entire city. Boiled blood-boars, red-dears roasted black, everything that was served the two quickly devoured. Until the stranger had surrender once again, this time because he fear his stomach might burst."

"Sounds like this stranger had a tough time challenging Russ." Emma said, smirking. "Have you ever meet him?"

"No." Hjalmar said. "He disappeared into the Eye of Terror long before I left my mother´s side. He claimed that he would return at the Time of the Wolf."

 _Is that why you were heading towards the Eye?_ "So, what was the final challenge?"

"Russ flipped the table over and said: `Last chance. Beat me in fight or go back to whatever hole you crawled out off.´"

"And?" Emma asked after a short pause. "What happened?"

"They fought through the castle for days, they broke through walls and shattered ancient relics, but the stranger managed to beat Russ with a mighty blow to his side. Russ fell to his knees and admitted defeat. Then the stranger threw his veil of and revealed himself to be the Emperor of Mankind in disguise. He placed a hand on his son´s shoulder and named in Russ his personal executioner and primarch of the sixth legion."

"Interesting story." _Explains a fair bit about his sons._ Emma rubbed her stomach under the table.

"It has a moral to it." Hjalmar said.

"What´s the moral?"

"Like I told you, a wolf may never be tamed or controlled. But show enough of your strength and he will grant undying loyalty."

"And have we?" Emma leaned back into her chair and looked up at the old wolf. "Shown our strength?"

Hjalmar looked down at her. He smiled through his beard and shrugged. "I don´t know. Have you?"

* * *

 _Emma…_ Johana glared up from the table. _Emma, my beloved and accursed palatine. Why won´t you let me die?_ She took a bite from a sour fruit and sucked the juices into her mouth. Slowly, her jaws started closing down on the fruit until she felt her lips folding inwards. Jammed between the teeth and the fruit, Johana bit down until she could feel her lip breaking. The sour juice stung as it mixed with her blood and seeped into the wound. She winced as the icy pain stabbed her flesh. Her heart started jittering as she drew more of the juice into her mouth.

 _Why do you force this on me? Why do you force this torture?_

She pulled the fruit out of her mouth and closed her fist around the gutted remains. The pain disappeared, and she felt a jolt running across her body, like a flash. She saw the Maiden again, she saw the blood gushing from her throat. Johana felt her herself recoiling, and she put her hand over her face to cover her expression. She bit down on again, this time on a finger. It stung as the teeth started digging in, but the flash came again. Flexing across her body, Johana bit down so hard that she felt the skin on her finger crack open and the taste of blood soon filled her mouth. Only now did the images start to fade.

 _Emperor,_ Johana prayed. _I beg of you,_ _grant me death. Do not let me live with my shame. Your will rises above Emma´s. Please, grant me this wish, undo my chains and toss me into the abyss. If I cannot fulfill my task. If I must live as a tainted heretic and a failed promise, please grant me the death of a faithful servant._


	41. Chapter 38

The black rose chapter 38

Fire danced across the Thunderhawk´s wings. The hull trembled as it pushed itself through the atmosphere. From the outside, it looked like a dying star crashing towards the planet. The inside on the other hand was cold, dark and gentle in comparison. The recycled air that ran through the vents had quickly grew stale and dry though that didn´t stop the wolves from finding ways to enrich it. They yelled jokes and insults between each other. Weather they were trying to make the reserved sisters loosen up or if they were accustomed to doing it, Emma found herself gently smiling at some of the jokes. Even if the wolves had a habit of spitting large chunks of slaver each time they went into a loud belly laugh.

The shaking of the hull eased and the fire that had been wrapping around the wings started to fade until only a few narrow scorch marks remained.

" _We´ll be hitting the ground soon._ " The pilot announced through the broadcast. " _Make sure you´re strapped in or you´re going to be tossed about._ "

Emma tightened the harness around her chest and noticed the wolves doing to same. They hit the ground with a hard thumb just a few moments later.

" _We´ve landed. Disembark._ "

The wolves were as per usual quicker to get ready. They released their straps and hurried towards the landing platform just as the sisters were rising from their seats.

When Emma stepped out, she saw dozens of other Thunderhawks landing. Wolves in grey and sisters in black streamed out of them. The wolves, pounding their chests plate, howling and shouting. Eager for another battle. The sisters walked forward in their usual silence. Their heads either hanging low or their hands joined in prayer. The only exceptions were Hjalmar and Galatea. The two were walking side by side, discussing something between them.

Emma turned and walked past the Thunderhawk, up the hill it had landed on, and saw the forces of the Imperial guard gathered before the hive Molncel. She only managed to cast a quick glance on them before the towering city consumed her vision. It was a massive, black monolith, pipes the size of tanks grew out of from the base like roots from a tree. Her eyes climbed up the shimmering, metallic spires that reached upwards. It took her a solid minute before her eyes could reach the tip of the hive, and even then it was hidden behind a cloud of black smog.

 _It's bigger than the hive I grew up in._ Emma though as she craned her neck. _Might even be bigger than the capital._

* * *

Hardly an hour after they had landed, the Inquisitor entered the ranks of the sisters and the wolves. The sisters gave him silence while the wolves served growls. Emma found it difficult not to want to snarl at him like the wolves did. She looked up at one of the wolves lifting his lip and showing his fang and pictured what it would look like if she tried something similar. Laughable, was the only word she could think of.

"What news do you bring, Inquisitor?" Emma asked. Though covered in armor apart from her head, Emma swore she could fell his eyes lingering on her.

"They are caught in a stalemate." Derik said. "The Imperial troops have captured the lower levels of the city but anything above the twenty-second level have been proven… difficult to break through. There is, however, an opportunity in this stalemate."

"We´ve already made plans." Emma crossed her arms.

"I´m sure you have." Derik said. "While I am certain that those plans will help us in case this uneasy truce falters, Colonel Lup and I have discussed our own ideas."

"In that case," Emma said. "let´s go to the Colonel and discuss those ideas with him."

Derik opened his mouth like he was about to protest but quickly closed it. "Well there is no reason for you not to discuss it with me here and now, but I see you´ve already made up your mind. Very well come with me." He turned.

Emma signaled for a few of her sisters to follow her into the Imperial guard camp. Before the sisters could join her, one of the wolves walked up next to Emma. She recognized him by his shaved head immediately.

"Be careful what you spill to the Inquisitor." Tor said. "Anything bit of information he gathers is a weapon to him."

A few days ago, if he had said the same thing, Emma would have thought of Tor as just a brash savage. Now she saw the sense to his words. She thought back to the interrogation with Jorno. Then she sighed. "He´s going to have to know about our plans sooner or later anyway. This way I´ll make sure he doesn´t change the truth to suit his goals."

"Grand." Tor said.

* * *

The guardsmen that saw the sisters were either staring at them with awe of the black clad warriors or they were fearfully avoiding their gazes. Derik walked in front of them, biting his lip.

 _It will not be a simple matter to convince the sisters to go along with this plan._ Derik thought. _The wolves will be even more difficult. By the Emperor, sometimes I wish I was psyker. It would be a lot simpler to see into people´s minds._ He sighed quietly to himself. _The sisters want blood, the wolves want glory and redemption. It will be difficult, but far from impossible._

"Lord Inquisitor." A guardsman greeted Derik outside the Colonel´s tent. "S-Sisters of the Hawk." He stuttered, and the color left his face.

 _Wonder how he would react to the wolves._ "Greetings, guardsman." Derik said. "I am here to see Colonel Lup."

"Yes, sir." He nodded. "Shall I announce you?"

"We´ll announce ourselves." Emma said.

The guardsman stepped to aside and let the Palatine and the Inquisitor forth. Emma gestured for her sisters to wait outside before the two entered.

Inside the tent, they found the Colonel, naked, leaning over a table with the legs of a young woman wrapped around his waist. She moaned each time he thrusted forward. He lifted her up, his face buried in her breasts, and the woman´s eyes shot open in panic. She didn´t scream. She didn´t shriek. She just froze and stared at Emma. The Colonel, confused by her sudden stiffness, paused to look up at her before he looked over his shoulder and pulled out of her.

"Sister of the Hawk…" The Colonel´s face whitened but his member stayed hard.

Derik turned to Emma and quickly had his fears confirmed. Her face was folded with rage and her arm trembled with anger.

"Sister…" The woman begged, trying desperately to cover her breasts and mound. She was young, skinny thing with a tattoo on her left shoulder in the shape of swirling serpent. Tears rolled down her cheeks as she was about to say something when Emma just raised a hand.

"Put on your clothes and sneak out the back of the tent." Emma said.

"W-what?" The young woman asked, baffled.

"Hurry." Emma said sharply. "Before my sisters hear you."

Not wanting to waste another moment wondering why, the woman hastily threw her clothes on and crawled out of the backside of the tent.

The Colonel, still naked, stared at whole exchange with puzzled eyes. "Why did you let her go?"

Emma glared at the Colonel before quickly turning away. "Let´s just say I sympathies with those who have to sell their flesh to survive."

 _But not with those who buy it._ It was written all over her face. Derik would have to be blind not to see it and even then, the tone of her voice would have told him all he needed to know.

"Pardon me, sister," The Colonel said as he gathered his clothes. "But she was no whore."

"Really?" Emma said with her back facing the Colonel. "What was her name?"

"Serena Blois." The Colonel said as he pulled his up his pants and tightened the belt around his thick waist. "She is the daughter of a lesser noble family from the hive."

"And why where you with her?"

"She offered herself." Garuis said plainly.

 _Please, stop talking._ Derik silently begged the Colonel. _You're not making things better._

"And what did you promise her in return?" Emma said with a hard voice. "A pile of gold? A new seat of power when the war is over? Or perhaps you promised her that you would marry her and ensure she would have an easy life?"

"Nothing of the sort." Garuis picked his shirt of the floor and pulled it over his arms. "I just found her in my tent with no clothes. Now, I wouldn´t put it past her that she might have hoped for one of the things that you mentioned."

"How old is she?" Emma asked.

"I don´t know. Twenty?"

 _Younger._ Derik knew. _And even younger in her mind._ "Emma. Please try not to forget why we are here. We may have walked in on the Colonel in the act of something hedonistic but it shouldn´t be enough to sour our relations. The heretics still occupy the hive and we need to have them dealt with."

Emma shifted her gaze towards Derik. Her blues eyes were boiling with rage. "Fine." She said after a moment of silence. "What´s your suggesting for dealing with the heretics?"

"Me and the Colonel where discussing before your arrival. We spend the entire last day going over strategies and tactics for taking over the city."

"And?" Emma asked, impatient. "What do you and the Colonel think is the best possibility?"

"I think we should force them to surrender." The Colonel said.

Now it was Emma´s turn be surprised. "What? How?"

"By showing the heretics the combined might of the Sisters of the Hawk and Space Wolves." Garuis said. "I know the nobles of this city, before the war. They are bold but not stupid. If we can meet them we might be able to negotiate a truce."

"Just show what we have and trust them to give up? Where is the honor in that?"

"What´s the honor in having hundreds if not thousands die on the field of battle compared to just scaring our enemies into surrendering to us?" Derik said. "Has far as I know that´s what ended the last battle you were a part of." _Coward._ Derik could hear the word ringing in his head. _That´ll be the next thing that comes out of her mouth._

"Not that kind of honor." Emma said. "Where's the honor that will make them keep their promise?" She looked to the Colonel. "You said they were bold but not stupid. Well what will stop them from stabbing us in the back the moment we present it to them?"

"A display of mercy in war is not a weakness but a strength." Derik said. "I´ve seen that strength in you. Show that strength now and they will show you an equal display of it."

Emma scoffed. She stared intently at the ground and went silent for a moment. "It won´t work." She said. "The heretics will only need one opening, one chance and they will take it. The heretics can´t just be shown the strength of the Emperor, they need to suffer it."

"Grant them mercy and they will see not just see the purity that can be granted by the Sisters of the Hawk, they will feel it. They will know the pure warm light that you can spread." Derik said and looked intently at Emma to read her reaction. Her eyes slowly shifted around, the corners of her mouth subtly turned up and down. _I´ve got her thinking._ Derik smiled.

"It´s not my choice either way." Emma said.

"No." Derik admitted. "But you are the Palatine of the Talons, your voice counts for a lot."

Her eyes narrowed slightly. "It does. But it is not my voice that will need to relay this. It will be yours. And the Colonel. You will have to share your tactics and ideas with my sisters and the wolves."

Derik felt his muscles tense. "Very well."

"And I will be with you."

"As you wish."

"Well then, why wait?" Emma said. "Follow me."

* * *

" _What?!_ " Hjalmar roared with enough volume to make Emma´s ears ring. The sheer force of his voice was enough to shake the tent. "You want us to be merciful? To meet with the heretics and break bread with them?" His nostrils flared with anger. "You inquisitors are secretive, lying, deceitful creatures but I didn´t think you were mad to boot!"

"I merely wish to avoid unnecessary death and destruction." Derik said with a voice that sound like a whisper compared to Hjalmar´s roar. "If the nobles of this city would surrender after seeing that they are not only facing the Imperial guard but also the Sisters of the Hawk and the Vlka Fenryka we could have this siege brought to a quick end. Just picture the tales they will tell of you. Hjalmar, the wolf so great that heretics do not even dare to fight him."

"Aye, I am picturing the tales they will tell. Hjalmar the wolf to cowardly to meet his enemies in battle, the wolf who would rather hide behind an inquisitor with no balls than meet his foes in the fires of war." He sneered at Derik. "I don´t like them."

"Hjalmar, please." Galatea said. "Calm down."

"Have you sided with the Inquisitor?"

"I have seen his point." Galatea replied, her face hardening. "When we assault Mountbatten, we will need all our strength. You may not like to hear it, but not even the wolves alone could not take on the Knights of the Blackwater."

Hjalmar growled in anger. "He lied to you about the Maiden, what's to say that he isn´t now?"

"As I recall," Derik said. "I shared that information with your Canoness." He turned to look at Galatea. "Did she not tell you?"

"No, she just didn´t believe you." Galatea replied, and a silence fell over the tent.

The old wolf glared at Derik with his silvery eyes, Galatea drummed her fingers on the table and Sophia flexed her closed fist in anger. The quiet made Emma tense. She didn´t want to speak but she didn´t dare to remain quiet either. Still fully and calmly, a resent grew.

 _Assault Mountbatten weaker but with our rear secured or go at full strength and risk exposing yourselves to a knife in the back._ Emma weighed the two back and forth. "Give him three days." Emma said and everyone´s gazes shifted to her. A trickle of cold sweat started forming in her neck. "Give the Inquisitor three days, if he can convince the heretics to meet us, then I will go out there to meet them. I will show them, that we are not afraid. And that they should be."

Hjalmar´s frown turned, and the old wolf chuckled. "Aye, he´ll have three days from me as well. But the wolves will not wait for you. If you´re not back on dawn of the third day, we´ll attack the hive, with or without you."

"As will the Wings." Sophia said.

"And the Talons." Emma said.

Derik turned to Galatea, and the Palatine muttered silently for a moment. "The Tail will join them as well."

"I thank you for this chance." Derik said. "You will have word on the morn of the third day."


	42. Chapter 39

The black rose chapter 39

The streets were deserted. Only dull, brown rain smacked down on the grey rubble. The droops collected into cold puddles that overflowed and ran down across the rocks in narrow rivers. Hunching under a collapsed hab-block, Ferik and Borro watched the streets.

"Think we´ll be seeing any action tonight?" Borro asked.

Ferik didn´t answer.

"Hey." Borro tossed some gravel at him.

"What?" Ferik turned.

"Do you think we´ll have to do anything else besides sitting on our asses tonight?"

"By the Emperor I hope not." Ferik turned his gaze back to the road. "Last time I was in a big battle I nearly went deaf." He pointed to a set of half healed stiches beneath his ear.

"Yeah, but it was a bloody spectacle." Borro said as he lit an lho-stick. "Wasn´t it?"

"Don´t know. I looked away when they blew the gate."

"What do you think about the rumor that the sisters killed the Maiden?" Borro blew out a puff of grey smoke. "Think they actually did it?"

Ferik gave of an irritated sigh. "I don´t know. You always talk so much?"

"Only when I´m bored."

Ferik shifted his position in the gravel. "Could you stop being bored?"

"Could you stop being a stuck-up ass?" Borro blew a puff of smoke. "We´ve been stuck out here for three bloody days. The heretics aren´t going to start shooting until we do. Try to relax and have some fun."

"Alright." Ferik turned back around. "Do you have anything fun to say?"

"I remember when I was sixteen and my father told that I needed to go and join the Imperial guard. You know, to do my duty to the Emperor like he did when he was my age."

"Did he stop being a guardsman?" Ferik raised a puzzled brow.

"Yeah?"

"How? Did he save the cardinal´s daughter?"

Borro gave a dry laugh. "No. He lost one leg and they thought it wasn´t worth it to replace it with a bionic, so they told him to either replace it with a peg or run into battle on one leg."

"So that´s the way of getting out of the Imperial guard, make sure I lose one of my legs and I can live the rest of my life in peace as a cripple."

"Not unless the commissar happened to be nearby."

"That would be funny if it wasn´t true." "Ferik grunted and took a sip from his canteen.

Borro scoffed. "Take something stronger." He lifted his leg and pulled a bottle he had hidden in his boot. "Have some hard-stilled instead."

"How long have you been hiding that?"

"A few days." Borro shrugged. "It´s better if you don´t ask. Just take a few strong chugs and loosen up a little."

Ferik took the bottle and let down a mouthful of the burning liquid down his throat. He coughed, dryly when it was down.

"A little strong huh?"

"Yes. Very." Ferik handed the bottle as he felt himself swaying a little.

"You´ll learn to love it."

"I think if I beat myself with hammer enough times I´d probably end up loving that as well." Ferik took a few chugs from his canteen to drown the fire burning in his chest.

"See," Borro smiled. "you´re becoming more fun already."

"Fuck of."

"Oh, there are plenty of things I´d fuck right now." Borro stared into the air and took a large swig from the bottle.

"Just stick your bayonet up your ass and you´ll probably end up satisfied." _Or dead, hopefully._ Ferik leaned back on the rock and reached into his pockets. He quickly found his own pack of Iho-sticks and gave himself a smoke.

"Could you imagine fucking one of the Sisters of the Hawk?"

"No. Why? They´re constantly hiding their faces under power armor. For all you know they could be as pretty as an ogryn with blisters."

"Ah, but that´s the beauty of it. They could be the most beautiful women I can ever imagine under there or it she could be hideously ugly. I don´t have to know, I just need to fuck her with her armor still on."

"Alright then," Ferik blew a puff of smoke. "next time you see a Sister of the Hawk, walk up to her and tell her that. Than you can come back and tell me how long she torched you with burning promethium."

Borro raised a silencing hand. "Listen."

"What? Is this another of one of your jokes?"

"Be quiet." Borro sharpened his tone.

Ferik decided to listen, mostly to humor Borro but there was stomping clang followed by the hiss of groaning pistons. Taking a short swallow, Ferik picked up his lasgun and slowly crawled to the edge of the broken slab of concrete. The thing he saw outside made the blood rush from his face and send ripples of goosebumps under his skin. He hand-signaled Borro to remain still and pressed his face down into the rock, pretending to be a corpse.

The sound came ever closer as a beam of white light scanned the ground with mannerisms of predator on the hunt. On two giant machine legs, the imperial knight paced forward with its arms at the ready.

Ferik could feel the searchlight stopping on him. Even with his eyes closed he could see the light through his eyelids. _Stay still._ He told himself. _Don´t move._

The light stayed on him and the titanic war-machine remained silent. The light died and Ferik opened his eyes. He saw the still burning Iho-stick next to his lips, the little embers slowly eating away at the paper. His heart stopped and a loud humming coming from the machine. He looked up only to see a light burning like a white, enraged sun. There was jolt of heat and then everything became black.


	43. Chapter 40

The black rose chapter 40

 _Six hundred and twenty-four levels._ Emma stared at a holo-pict of the hive. Next to the slowly turning rendition, a set of bars displayed data-sheets concerning the hive itself. _Six million registered habitants._ She fell back in her chair and tried to estimate how long a battle could last. _It´s going to take days. Unless… they surrender, like our prisoners._ Emma though back to the battle outside the fortress. _There´s no way for me to tell how many of the habitants can fight themselves._ Her mind trawled back even further, back to the hive she grew up in. She tried recalling how many she saw in there and how many of them were strong or even half capable fighters. _Most of the registered habitants would not last a single second in combat. Those at the lower levels might have some good warriors, but they will sooner sell the nobles above them without a second thought._ It was not something Emma liked to think about, but she knew what the gangs in the hive would do to other gangs if they were given the chance. Once, in the brothel she and her mother lived, they hosted one of the most notorious gangs in the whole city. They served them drink, food and themselves. But in the middle of celebrations, members of a rival gang attacked. They came in through the front door when the other gang was completely washed on booze. They chopped of the hands of the men and forced them to walk out of the brothel bleeding and screaming. The women, they did even worse things with. When they were done raping them, they cut off their breasts in addition to their hands and made them walk through the streets until they bleed to death. Once the attack happened, her mother was quick to shield her. She grabbed Emma by the arm, put herself in front of her daughter and hurried up to their apartment. But she was not quick enough, what Emma didn´t see, she heard. What she didn´t hear, she was told about from bragging gang members. Knowing that, Emma could barely picture what they would do to the nobles they despised if given the chance.

"Surrender might seem like a good idea if they know of what the gangs might do to them." Emma reached across her table and took the tankard Hjalmar had given to her. It was filled with the same, weaker brew of mead she had on _Winter´s Wrath_.

Emma took a deep breath and listened to the sound of the camp. Though the wolves were noisy as per usual but compared to the thunder produced when they were feasting and landing, this might as well have been whispers.

 _Can even a hive city withstand them?_ Emma wondered. She´d seen how brutally effective the wolves were. They towered over normal men and they could throw a full-grown man around like he was a ragdoll. She pushed her thumb in between her lips and chewed slightly on the nail. _Could the Inquisitor be right? The Space Wolves are not what I was told the Space Marines would be. They are not the sacred, staunch warriors of legend. They are wild, uncontrollable savages. With bellies filled with booze and meat. Maybe the warriors of legend would have acted differently. Maybe they would have seen a point in what the Inquisitor is proposing._ She scoffed as she remembered her oath. _I can see the point. I see it clearly._ Emma felt a cold lump grow in her stomach. _Where is the guaranty that they will not just take what chance they can and attack us when we are unprepared? They tried that once and got themselves massacred._ Emma grunted and mouthful from her tankard. She pictured the Space Wolves and her sisters rampaging through the city. _Is that the strength the Emperor demands of me? The strength to make decisions like this? To face the actions of my sisters and the wolves and stand vigilant while they perform them? Is that what it takes to see my son again? If that's the case, what will I be when I see him again?_

* * *

The pipe went so low that Derik was forced to squat and drag his coat through the brown, stinking water running on the bottom. He had to concern himself with the fact that the rotted smell of the water would stick with his coat and boots.

 _At best I´ll have to get rid of them, at worst I´ll have one of the sisters purge them._ He chuckled to himself. One of the guardsmen that were guiding stopped to ask what he was laughing at. Derik told him the joke and the guardsman gave a laugh himself.

"Can we add all our clothes to the pile while we are at it?" The guardsman asked before turning back to guide Derik.

It wasn´t difficult for Derik to convince Serena to give him the information he needed to contact her family. Derik had to admit he was surprised but not the biggest surprise he had of late.

"Why are you so eager to tell me this?" Derik asked Serena once she agreed.

"Because I want to have my family safe and secured through this siege." She said. "I can´t bear the thought of entering the city again only to see my brothers and my parents killed or worse, publicly tortured and humiliated."

 _And I´m sure the thought of living the rest of your life on the streets is not something that strikes your fancy either._ Derik thought. _Particularly now that you think that Emma will butcher the Colonel if she ever finds the two of you together again._ Derik didn´t think Emma would actually kill the Colonel. _She wasn´t pleased by what she had witnessed but unlike her Canoness, Emma has a room for mercy and trust in her soul. I just got to make sure I fill that room. Alfred and Sophia are both lost causes, the wolves don´t trust me beyond the reach of their axes, but Galatea is still on my side and there still is a chance that Emma might be swayed._

"We´re coming up on another junction." The guardsman said as he climbed up a ladder. "We´ll soon be out of the severs but I can´t promise it´ll smell much better."

"As long as we can stand up I´ll think we can feel a little better."

"Don´t get your hopes up." The guardsman said as he struggled to lift a thick plate above his head. "We´ve had a few patrols go missing. We might have to crouch and stay hidden until your contact shows up."

"When did they disappear?" Derik asked.

"We lost contact just a few hours ago." He pushed the plate out above his head. "I wouldn´t raise too much concern just yet. They may have just lost a part of their vox or they got lost on their way back. Either way, it's good to be careful."

"Yes." Derik agreed as he climbed out of the severs and into the abandoned street. They were at the border. The line drawn in front of level twenty-two. It was a completely and utterly silent place. "We´ll wait here." Derik said.

And for at least a solid hour they waited. The guardsmen that had guided Derik mostly kept silent with one eye to the street and Derik did the same. Though it had been years since he had been on an actual battlefield, he was far from unaccustomed to the dread and tension that comes from the silence before the fight would start. There was not much else to do besides just keeping quiet and waiting.

A little, shy figure crossed the street. Coming from the center of the hive, Derik knew that it must be his contact. He brushed of his coat as best he could and prepared to meet the figure in the middle of the street.

"Keep your weapons ready should something happened." Derik said, and the guardsmen nodded in reply before propping their las-guns against the rubble and broken walls.

The rain started smacking down again as Derik walked across the street. The thick, black droops were quick to wash away the stains that remained on Derik´s coat but did little to take the scent with them. Not that Derik could notice much, the rain that smacked onto his unprotected head quickly streamed down his face and gathered close to his lips. Derik opened his mouth to take a breath and felt the water cur itself into his mouth. The taste was dry, like he had bitten into charred paper and let the ashes fill his mouth.

"Inquisitor." The figure said with a voice that sounded like a man's. He was about Derik´s height but the hood covered most of his face and the parts that weren´t were cloaked by shadows.

Derik swallowed before answering. "Greetings. Oh, pardon me, did Serena not share my name?"

"No."

"I am Derik Horst." He said, taking a small bow and the figure answered in kind.

"Follow me, Inquisitor." The hooded man said.

Without being asked to, Derik hand-signaled to the guardsmen to stay put and wait for him. The man led him to a hover-craft and Derik climbed in. They shared a silence before landing an hour and at least fifty levels later. The platform they landed on was washed in the black rain as well. Derik now held up his hand to block the rain as he was lead into the spiral that the platform was attached to. Everything in the hive may have been made in a facturom´s of the Mechanicum but every line of pipe, every spire and tower looked as if had grown out of the depths beneath. Like a coral growth, but rather than being made out of calcium and filled with fluorescent algae this was made from metal and brought to life by cable-feeds. Though the only thing that made this hive different from others of its kind was the shape and size of it.

"Inquisitor." A serf on the platform said when they noticed Derik´s coat and seal.

"I´m here for the meet the head of this house."

"Of course." The serf said. "Follow me."

 _Getting tired of hearing that._ Derik kept the thought to himself as he was lead into the spire and was immediately meet with a hall that looked like it could house a hundred guests. But now there were only four people there. The Inquisitor, the serf, the hooded man and a woman seated in a throne made of marble at the center of the otherwise featureless space.

"Lady Blois." Derik said as kneeled before her. "I´ve come to tell you that your daughter is safe."

"Thank you." She answered with smug tone.

"I also want to tell you about the bloodshed that might be avoided."

"How? We are a lesser house in this city." Lady Blois replied as she stared at the Inquisitor with her assured, green eyes. "What makes you think we hold much sway in this city? What could I do to persuade my superiors?"

"Though we are at war and I have come to avoid a battle, but it is in my experience that times of war are also times of opportunity. Times when the great fall from their pedestals and the lesser rise to take their place."

"What are you suggesting?" She asked, playing with a string of her hair. "That I betray my bellowed sisters and brothers in nobility?"

 _This one´s biting._ Derik smiled. "Bellowed or hated, rich or poor, we all end up dead sooner or later. But why should you have to wait? If you are being presented with the opportunity, why should you concern yourself with who falls in your path?"

She chuckled, and a venomous, hungry grin grew on her lips. "You are nothing like what the rumors portrayed you as." She leaned back in her throne.

"And what do the rumors say about me?"

"That you are a cowardly, slithering thing." She said. "But what I am seeing now is something very different." She looked past Derik.

"Something quite bold and arrogant." The hooded man said behind Derik. He turned to see the man remove the hood to reveal his face. He was good-looking man. He had smooth black hair and carefully grown cheek bones. But when looking closer, the skin covering his face showed man that had been morphed and crafted by bionics. He paced around Derik and took his place next to Lady Blois. "He is a curios man, is he not?"

"He is, dear." She said as she brushed against his side and started gently caressing his arm. "Very curios."

"Lord Blois." Derik said. "I did not realize it was you."

"You still don´t." He said. "I am Lord Madaro of the Blackwater." He took Lady Blois´s hand. "And she is just one of my ladies." He grinned. "So, you are suggesting that we dispose of the greater nobles of this city and let the lesser ones take their place, in exchange for what?"

"A truce." Derik said. "I don´t know if you have looked outside your walls but there is a sizeable force besieging this city."

"I am fully aware of the guardsmen outside the castle walls. A hoard of rats for all I care or can be bothered with."

"Not just guardsmen." Derik said. "Not anymore. I have not only brought the Sisters of the Hawk here, but I have also brought the Adeptus Astartes. A thousand of the warriors of the Vlka Fenryka. Each of them capable of killing a hundred men before even sweating."

"Hmm…"

"I must warn you, Lord Madaro, I may be patient, but the sisters and wolves are not. You only have three days before they will attack and kill every last one of you inside these walls."

"You play with a strong hand, Inquisitor." Madaro paced around the throne Lady Blois was seated in.

"It is not strong. It´s deadly. Have you ever seen Space Wolves fighting in close quarters?"

"I have seen Astartes fall from the sky like they were burning leaves." Madaro answered, staring at Derik with cold eyes.

"You haven´t then." Derik said. He took step forward and folded his arms across his chest. "Let me tell you something. At a distance they may not look any different from a normal man, but once the wolves come close… I have seen them take on beasts twice their size with their bare hands and still come out the victor."

Madaro laughed quietly as he traced his fingers down the length of Lady Blois´ arm. "Let me tell you something, Inquisitor. Astartes or no, these men are still mortal like any other. There comes a point were no amount of armor or bio-enhancements can withstand the damage that is inflicted on it. As our holy Emperor discovered when he faced his favored son, Horus."

"Are you likening yourself to the Arch-traitor? Because last I checked he didn´t survive his own rebellion."

"I am likening your vanity and arrogance to the Emperor´s."

 _He´s got something up his sleeve._ "Since you are so confident, why don´t you show me your hand?"

"Why should I do that?"

"You seem confident in your ability to win. I´ve shown my hand, what reason do you have to suspect that I will have a chance of countering it?"

"It´s better to have your opponent in the dark about everything about you. Let them think you are weak when you are strong and let them think you strong when you are weak."

Derik puzzled quickly."Why didn´t you keep it up then?"

Madaro just raised a brow.

"You could have kept to the shadows." Derik said. "Let your hood keep you hidden and let Lady Blois handle everything. You´ve made a mistake. I now know of you. I know that you are effectively ruling this hive city."

"Then, why should we not just kill you now?" Lady Blois said with a sharp gaze.

"If you do, the three days you could have had will become…" Derik let his head sway back and forth. "About five hours. Then the wolves will come with the sisters and the Imperial guard. Do think you can mount a defense in time for their attack?"

"We will shoot them down from the skies." Lady Blois said before she was cut off by Madaro steeping in front of her.

"Be quiet woman." He said through clenched teeth. He turned to Derik.

"Neither the Hawk nor the Wolf will soar in the sky." Derik said. "Besides, that was in Mountbatten. This is hive city Molncel. This is not a city made for warfare. It´s many things, I grant you. It´s a home, it´s a factorum, it´s a breeding ground for people of all sorts. But it´s no fortress. The wolves and the sisters will not come from above, they will crash on your walls and tear them down. They will drown the city in fire and blood."

Madaro narrowed his gaze but Derik did not look away. Rather, the Inquisitor meet Madaro´s eyes and let his sharp stare rest on his calm eyes.

"You can avoid this." Derik said using his assured, tempered voice.

"There will be blood." Madaro said. "And there will be fire. But the flames will not just consume us, the Hawk and the Wolf will walk away from the battlefield burned and plucked."

"Let me ask you something." Derik paced to Madaro´s side. "Is your life worth scorching the fur of the Wolf and plucking the feathers of the Hawk? Is that worth dying for?"

"We will meet them here." Madaro said. "You will bring them here and we will talk."

* * *

She couldn´t sleep. She never could. Not after the Maiden killed herself. The moment she closed her eyes, she would return to the guts of the fortress. She saw the crimson streaming from the gash. She felt the scent of blood and tears stinging her eyes. Johana opened her eyes and sat upright in the bed. She´d tried defeating it. She´d tried pushing it away. She´d tried everything in her power. But the images kept returning. Lurking, just behind her eyes. Each one coming and passing with a flash of white, electrifying light. The bite of it made her body tense and jolt until her muscles started throbbing with hot, sharp pulses.

 _Emma has risen. And I am still burning. I am barely ash, yet the embers keep burning in my breast._ She closed her hand to a fist in front of her and let her teeth sink into the flesh. Her hand started to tremble as the bones in her fingers started creaking. _Emperor, mighty and righteous,_ Johana paused and pulled her bleeding hand away from her mouth. She felt her heart beating in her ears as blood started dripping from her finger. She blinked and leaned back. She started pulling her robes back until they were at her belly. The unhurt hand clutched the cloth as her bleeding hand crawled inside her and started thrusting. It hurt, it stung, but the sensation pushed the flashes away. She could close her eyes and see nothing but darkness. She winced, but the pleasure of her fingers inside of her quickly overpowered everything else.


	44. Chapter 41

The black rose chapter 41

"Well I´m buggered." Hjalmar said as he stared down across the hill. "We gave the Inquisitor three days and he returns the next."

"Do you think he managed to get the heretics to agree?" Emma asked.

"Aye." Hjalmar replied with a grunt in his voice. "He wouldn´t come to us so soon otherwise."

"It´s not over yet, Hjalmar." Emma said. "The heretics still have to agree to our terms." She looked out across the Imperial guard and saw Derik approach.

"It´s bloody strange." Hjalmar looked at Emma. "I fought with an order of the Sisters of Battle once, and the very thought of making a deal or some kind of arrangement with the heretics seemed so strange to them that I´d sooner expect them to throw their armor of and dance naked before the Imperial guard. And now here I stand, with the Sisters of the Hawk, about to make a deal with heretics."

Emma turned to look up at the old wolf. Beneath his rust-colored beard, she could see the hint of a laugh. "It might just be necessary. But I don´t think this will last."

"This truce?"

"Peace." Emma said, coldly. "Even if we destroy Mountbatten and scare the remaining heretics to surrender, we will either join the Inquisitor in stopping the Black Crusade or we will turn around and purge heresy that has been growing on this planet."

"Is that so bad?" Hjalmar said. "Purging heretics is the duty of the Sisters of the Hawk, isn´t it?"

"It is." Emma confessed. _Though I wish it was not our only duty._

The Inquisitor wandered up the Palatine of the Talons and the Captain of the Wolves. "Emma." He greeted her with a nod. "Hjalmar." He repeated the gesture.

"What news?" Emma asked.

"Lord Madaro, high noble of the city has agreed to a meeting." Derik replied. "Though you will have to follow me into the hive."

"That´s fine." Emma said before Hjalmar had a chance for another outburst. "I said I would not show them fear. So, I will walk into their den and face them."

"But you will not go without me." Hjalmar said. "Or Galatea."

"And Anna." Emma said.

"Alright." The Inquisitor said. "What about the Palatine of the Wings?"

"Sophia has refused to come with us." Emma said. "She thinks this idea is foolish and borderline heresy." _And she might just be right about the former._

"Fine then." Derik said. "Will you bring anyone else?"

Emma coiled her fist together and rubbed her thump on her fingers. "No."

"Summon the Palatine of the Tail and the Standard Bearer and we will set of."

* * *

Emma stared out of the window as of the transport as it hovered over the city´s spires. It had been some time since she had seen a city like this. Parts of it reminded her of the hive she grew up in, others just looked alien to her.

 _Surrender and sing an oath to never raise arms against the Sisters of the Hawk or the ecclesiarchy ever again._ Emma repeated the terms she, Galatea, Hjalmar and Anna had discussed before setting of. _It won´t be enough._ She bit the skin of her thumb.

After about two hours of flight, the transport dropped them of in front of a tower close to the center of the city and everyone dispersed. As Emma stared up at the at crudely, spear shaped spire, a thought struck her. She glanced to her sides and looked over her shoulder. Though she´d rather keep the Inquisitor far away from her, Emma ran up to Derik and grabbed him by the shoulder.

"What will stop them from just killing us here and now?" She whispered into his ear.

"If they kill us now, they will sign their own death warrant." Derik replied. He reached for Emma´s hand but she pulled it away before her could touch her.

"They´ll have the commanders of both the Hawk and the wolves. You don´t think they´ll risk it?" She put a hand on her sword.

"They are too scared to. They choose to meet us here, inside the hive, rather than outside because they want to scare you. They are scared of what you can do."

"Or they might have tried make us poke our heads out so they can cut them of with a single cut."

"If that where the case, then why are we still talking?" Derik turned to look Emma in the eye. "We haven´t we been killed yet?"

Emma grunted and let Derik walk on ahead.

They were lead through a gate that looked like it could swallow and entire Baneblade Tank. Despite it´s size, the thing was filled with details and carvings. The etchings formed stunning images of angels spreading their white wings as they flew across battlefields armed with holy, glowing spears. Ready to smite the serpent like beast coiling before them.

The machines that pushed the gate open moaned as they pushed the doors aside. Derik was the first to enter. Behind him was Emma, followed by Galatea and Anna and finally came Hjalmar.

 _So, this is a house of heresy._ Emma thought as she stared at the internal complex.

Galatea was about to say something when a set of doors opened. A dark-haired man entered dressed in vivid purple robes stepped in. He was followed by a woman in a black dress. Just looking at the shape of it, Emma could tell that the gown was squeezing her even if her movement displayed no sign of discomfort.

"Lord Madaro." Derik bowed when seeing the man. "Lady Blois. We have answered your summons and are ready to start negotiations."

"So that´s a Space Wolf." The dark-haired man said, staring at Hjalmar. "And those are the Sisters of the Hawk." He shifted his gaze to Emma, Galatea and Anna. "Hmph. Where is your Canoness?"

"Dead." Emma said.

"Are you certain?"

"I saw it with my own eyes." Emma flexed her fist. "Why are you so curious?"

Madaro looked over at Derik. "Because that means the Hawk is without a head."

"Wrong." Galatea said. "The Hawk now has four heads."

"Four heads are better than one, I suppose."

"Sisters." Derik stepped in. "Hjalmar. Lord Madaro and Lady Blois. We are here to negotiate."

"Aye." Hjalmar stepped away from the wall. "We are here to accept your surrender."

Madaro´s eyes narrowed.

"Please, excuse him." Derik said. "The wolf speaks out of line."

"No, he doesn´t." Galatea said. "We will only accept your surrender and promise that you will remain in this city until this war is over and never take up arms against the Sisters of the Hawk or ecclesiarchy again."

"And why should we accept this offer?" Madaro said.

"Because otherwise we will kill you." Emma said.

"You say it as if it will be easy." Madaro said. "The Imperial guard have been stuck here for days. They can´t take this city, and you think you can?"

"Would you be meeting us if you didn´t believe we couldn´t?"

"I´m not saying you can´t. I´m saying it will be bloody and neither of us will walk away from this fight without loses."

"We can avoid it." Derik said.

"We can." Emma agreed. "But how can we trust you to uphold your part of any agreement we make?"

"She has a point." Madaro looked at Derik. "There is little reason for us to honor any pact we might make this day." He turned back to the sisters. "And what reason do you have not to return here once the war is over and attack us again?"

"We give you our word." Emma said.

"Ah, yes, your word." Madaro said. "But as I recall, you are sworn to purge and kill every heretic in this system. Forgive me, but I find it a little difficult to determine which one you value more."

Emma gripped her sword. "Then how about we settle this here and now?"

"What do you mean?"

"You select a champion and-"

"And you select the wolf?" Madaro glanced at Hjalmar. "You must think me foolish. Even the greatest human warriors in the Imperium would never be able to survive duel with a Space Wolf. Let alone stand a chance of killing one."

Emma shock her head. "No. Not Hjalmar."

"Who then?" He looked at Galatea. "You´ve got a broken arm," He shifted to Derik. "And I wonder if the Inquisitor can even swing that blade he has strapped to his side. That only leaves you two." He looked first at Anna. "She´s the Standard Bearer isn´t she?"

"How did you know that?" Anna asked.

"Your hood." Madaro replied. "You hold the rank below canoness, don´t you?"

"I do."

"Which means you are one of the best sword fighters of your order. You wouldn´t have that honor otherwise." Madaro turned back to Emma. "That leaves only you."

"I am the Palatine of the Talons." Emma said.

"And not to long ago, the Canoness was acting Palatine of the Talons. That means you only reached this rank recently. And you are younger than your sisters. I´ll accept a duel with you."

"Fine." Emma flexed her fingers around the sword´s handle.

"But you must also accept my terms."

"Which are?"

"If I win, you will not only leave this hive, but the wolves will leave this system and you must swear never to raise your blades against me again."

Emma´s frown shattered. She looked over at Hjalmar. The old wolf was just stared at her with narrow, yet troubled eyes. Anna and Galatea looked anxious but neither said anything. The Inquisitor was another matter. He stepped in front of Emma and prepared to talk to Madaro.

"If we agree to these terms, you have to agree to ours."

"What do you demand?"

"If Emma wins this duel, you will not only swear to surrender in this conflict, but you will give us hostages. The elder child of each noble family."

Madaro just shrugged. "I agree. Do you agree to my terms?"

Emma looked to Anna and Galatea. The Standard Bearer was visibly pale, and her motions were stiffened. The Palatine of the Tail remained stoic. Both gave her short nods.

"We agree." Emma said. "Who is to be your champion?"

He spread his arms wide. "I, Lord Madaro of the Mountbatten, name myself as the champion of this duel." Madaro clapped his hands. "My serfs will make preparations. They will bring parchment for both of us to sign and then I shall take my leave."

Sure enough, the serfs came quickly back with contracted prepared with seals and everything they had agreed on. Derik made quick read of it before letting the sisters sign it.

"You will see me again within the hour, I suggest you prepare yourself." Accompanied by Lady Blois and at least fifteen serfs that had entered the hall, Madaro left them.

"He seems confident." Anna said.

"He is." Derik affirmed. "I find it more worrying why."

"He comes from Mountbatten." Galatea said, letting the meaning of that name sink in. "What he is doing here?"

"I don´t know." Derik said. "Which makes things all the more concerning."

"What can I expect?" Emma asked.

"The nobles of Mountbatten are famous for being the only pilots of Imperial Knights on this planet." Galatea said.

Emma felt her muscles tense and the hairs at the back of her hair stiffen. "Do you think he´s arming himself in one of them?"

"No." Derik said. "If he did, he wouldn´t have tried talking his way out of facing Hjalmar. Besides, it takes far more than an hour to ready a machine like that. Don´t let your guard down though, he wouldn´t so self-assured if he didn´t believe he had already won."

"Use that to your advantage." Galatea said. "Arrogance can be a more efficient killer than the sharpest blade or strongest bolter." She put he hand on Emma´s shoulder. "Make sure that´s the last lesson he learns."

Emma nodded.

* * *

Half an hour passed, and a servitor came to collect them. He led them down a set of corridors before setting them of in an elevator. It went up dozens of levels before stopping.

"This is where the Palatine of the Talons will get off."

"What about us?" Hjalmar asked.

"You will be transported up another level to observe the duel."

"Be careful, Emma."

"I will." She stepped of the platform and walked forward in the lit corridor. The beam-lights in the roof flickered and hummed, she heard the sound of her boots clanging against the metallic floor. The helmet´s seal made a buzzing noise before it clicked into place, and she started breathing through the helm´s respiratory grill. The corners of her eyes filled with little micro-screens of data-feeds and status cheeks. Emma put a hand on her side, to make doubly sure her sword and the boltpistol were there. She came up to a door and walked through it without much hesitation.

The light was blinding at first, even with her lenses quickly adjusting. Once she adjusted, Emma saw what she had entered. An arena. A theater for the duel and a crowd to make sure that none would go without seeing it. Emma looked up and saw the witnesses, all of them nobles. Ladies, lords all of them cheering and waving like hungry beasts awaiting a bloody meal. Her sisters and the wolf were simple enough to find. They were seated alone, next to the Inquisitor, who was the only one who could be mistaken for one of the nobles at first glance.

"Palatine of the Talons!" Madaro´s voice filled the arena.

Emma turned to face him and felt a rush of ice as a she sucked down a hard breath. _That bastard._

Madaro plodded forward, each stomp of his thick boots producing a _clang_ that echoed around the hall. He wore armor that was, only on principle, similar to Emma´s. An armor painted in the colors of crimson, trimmed with gold. An armor made from ceramite plating and covered his entire body but that´s where the similarities ended. This was no ordinary power armor, this was thicker, heavier and far stronger. He was wearing tactical dreadnought armor, terminator armor.

"This will be fight to the death!" Madaro said, turning the lightning-halberd in his hands. "Are you ready!?"

Emma thought as she put a hand on her sword.A slow, stiff breath passed her drew her sword and the blade came flashed to life by the shrieks of a thousand screaming birds. She raised the weapon above her head before she started pacing towards Madaro.

She raised her sword to guard and started pacing around Madaro in a circle and he answered in kind, raising his halberd and following her with the point of his weapon. Compared to Madaro, Emma´s movements were quick and agile. She made a few quick, faint charges forward, and quickly noticed how slow Madaro was to react or move to block any of her movements.

Emma shifted her grip on the sword and made an attack.

He is response was slow, but the armor was strong. Emma´s blade scrapped against the ceramite but the weapon only produced a splash of sparks. Emma dashed to sideways to avoid his incoming swipe. Outside of his range, she could see the joints between the armor´s plating. Areas where her sword could cut through. She sidestepped and prepared for another strike.

A chuckle, enhanced by the armor´s grill, came from Madaro. He suddenly moved quicker than before, quicker than Emma had anticipated. In the corner of her sight, she could see the blur of the crackling, blue-glowing weapon coming towards her side. There was no time to think. No time to act. The electro-charged weapon slammed into her side and Emma could feel the ceramite of her armor giving in to the edge of the halberd as the cold steel started cutting into her flesh. She was flung aside and rolled across the arena. Her vision shifted between the soft images of the bright, white roof and the black, hard floor. Red, blurred feeds rang inside her helmet. Emma wasn´t certain of where she was but she knew that she was lying on her back. As rolled over to her stomach, Emma felt stab of pain in her side, beneath her ribcage. She pressed her hand on it and her palm returned bloody. The armor was not just cracked but shattered. A large chunk of her armor had completely broken off leaving the gaping wound beneath completely exposed.

 _The sword._ Emma realized as she put her foot to the floor. She looked around her and found it lying on the ground ten meters to her right. Madaro was twenty meters in front of her. He turned and twirled the halberd in his hands, cheering and waving as the crowds roared for him. Slowly, with the weight of the armor behind him, Madaro entered into a sprint. Each step of the terminator armor roared like the barks of an anti-tank rifle.

Emma tried standing up but stumbled the moment she tried leaning on both her legs, ending up on the ground again. She looked up and saw the hunched shape of Madaro coming towards her. Though he had been slow, stagnant almost to begin with, he moved quicker with every step and with every step his armor carried him further.

Clutching her side, Emma knew that there was no way for her to get up and run away in time. When Madaro was less than two meters away from her, Emma lifted her left leg and put her palm to the ground. With one heave, she rolled to the side. Putting herself out of Madaro´s path. As she had her back faced to Madaro, she could feel the floor trembling with the force of his boots pounding into it. Using the momentum of her roll, Emma clumsily got her feet. Her entire body was trembling. She put both hands on the wound and watched as Madaro kept charging forward, the movements of his armor carrying him straight into the wall of the arena. With the sudden crack of a lightning bolt, Madaro crashed into the wall, crumbling through the first layers of rock-crete and the breaking through next layer of metal sheets, burying himself a solid meter in before being stopped by the second layer of reinforced stone.

Limping, Emma hurried towards he sword. Blood seeped from her fingers, making her shacking hands slip and fall from the wound.

Inside the wall, the crumbled rocks and shattered rods started caving outwards as Madaro forced the armor to walk backwards.

Weather pushed on by panic or driven by rage, Emma ignored the injury and ran as fast as her legs would carry her. She reached down to grab her sword, and the pain returned with a harsh fury. The jolt was so sudden and strong that Emma folded herself forward and tumbled to the ground again. She winced and clenched her teeth so hard she could hear them creaking. But she forced her eyes open and saw the sword, lying just out of arms reach. The blade pointing right towards her. With a scream, Emma stretched out her hand and grasped the weapon by the tip of it. She dragged the sword towards as she rolled to her side again and pushed herself upwards.

With the sword in her hand and blood dripping from her wound, Emma climbed to her feet and watched as the shape of the terminator armor started rising out of the rubble in the wall. Grunting, Emma hurried forward. The wound did not let her forget about it´s existence. Each time her foot hit the ground, she felt another stab coming from her side. Inside her helmet, she panted and felt moisture gathering on her skin. Her eyes started itching from the heat and sweat gathering around her skin.

The rubble started falling out of the wound in the wall, and the armor started rising out of the debris, but it was still slower than before. Madaro started wiggling back and forth to clear the rocks and in doing so, he exposed the terminator armor´s exhaust grills at its back.

Pressing a rune, the sword brightened and leaping lightning bolts started running across the blade. Balancing as well as she could, Emma grabbed the top of the armor´s back plate and stabbed her sword into the exposed vent. It felt softer than she had expected. The blade seemed to slide into the armor´s vents like it was flesh. She pulled the blade out and it returned blackened with thick oil. Crying with pain, Emma pushed the sword in again. Harder this time but it stopped when the blade was only halfway through.

 _I´m at the thicker plate._ Emma realized. She wiggled the sword from side to side, pulled it out and pressed her boltpistol into the wound in the exhaust grill. The kick of the weapon stabbed her up to the elbow but she kept pulling the trigger. The heat of the bolts exploding inside the armor radiated outwards until she could feel the warmth of if it on her wound.

The terminator armor started jerking and twitching like it was trying to shake her of. The rocks started falling back and Emma was forced to leap to the side. She dropped the empty boltpistol tried putting a distance between herself and Madaro.

Half running, half limping, Emma ran along the arena´s wall. Occasionally leaning on it to avoid slipping and crashing into the floor again.

Behind her, Madaro made a final push and kicked the rocks aside before he was free of the rubble. The dark red color scratched and covered in thin layer of white dust. Large, thick drops of oil dripped from the armor´s back but Madaro showed no signs of caring. He looked at his halberd. The weapon had been bent out of shape by the force of the impact. He took it with both hands and crudely forced it back into shape.

"Palatine!" The armor´s grill amplified his voice to deafening level, even inside the massive arena. "I will finish you!"

Emma looked over her shoulder. She took a deep breath. _I can´t outrun him. I can´t escape him._ Breathing through her teeth, Emma turned and raised her sword to a guard stand. Though now, it was only a pathetic imitation of the stand she did at the start of the duel. She struggled to stand on two legs and felt her head growing heavier with every passing second. Though she held one hand on the wound, she could still fell blood slowly dripping.

Madaro started plodding forward. The joints and gears of the armor buzzing loudly with every step he took. His movements were far more clumsier and slower than before. As he came closer and closer to Emma, he seemed to get progressively slower and slower.

 _Did it…?_ Emma kept still and prepared herself for another attack.

Then, just two meters in front of her, the terminator plate came to a stop. The boot slammed into the ground, but it would not rise. Gradually, Madaro sank forward like he was kneeling. The halberd slipped from his armored hand. He tried putting both his hands on his knee in an effort to rise but both his arms sank to his side and the armor locked Madaro into a pose. Kneeling, with both arms hanging from his side, Madaro stood completely motionless.

From his back, Emma could hear the grunts of tyhe exhaust grills wheezing as more oil streamed from the wounds she caused.

Emma took one step forward.

Madaro did nothing.

She took another step.

The armor remained still.

Emma put one hand on Madaro´s helmet, turned the sword in her hand and stabbed it into gap between the helmet and the gorget. The blade seemed to almost sink down, like she had stabbed into water. When she pulled it out, it was covered in a mixture of crimson blood and black grease. A weak gurgle noise came from inside the helmet as blood started running from the gash Emma made. She excepted the armor to collapse, to fall over, but instead Emma found herself loosing balance and stumbling towards to her side. The sword slipped from her fingers when her shoulder hit the wall. She wanted to roar her victory, call out to everyone that they had lost this battle. She hastily reached behind her head, released the helmet´s seal and tore it off.

"I… I´ve won." It came out of her like a whisper.

 _Dooooouuuumm!_

Another loud clang echoed through the hall. The heat boiling her body was pushed away for a brief moment, replaced with a swell of ice. She looked up, and it all melted away.

Hjalmar had leaped into the arena and was running towards her. "Is it bad?" He asked when he reached her.

"Yes."

Hjalmar pulled a bottle from his belt and sprayed it´s content over the wound. The substance quickly hardened and sealed the wound. "It´s stops the bleeding. Move too much and it´ll break."

Emma leaned against the wall and tried to gently sink down to the floor, but Hjalmar was quick to grab her and ease her down. Once she was sitting down, Hjalmar walked over to the motionless terminator armor. He raised his boot and kicked it so hard that the ceramite dented and the armor crashed limbless to the ground.

" _She´s won!_ " Hjalmar bellowed. "She´s beaten your champion. Now give up your firstborns or I will send my brothers into this city and slaughter every last one of you!"


	45. Chapter 42

The black rose chapter 42

 _By the howling spirits of Fenris._ Hjalmar thought. _She slew the bastard._ He looked down and stared at Emma resting in his arms. She was practically sleeping. After the battle, Emma tried stubbornly to walk on her own but Galatea took one quick look at the wound and quickly forbade it.

"If you tear that wound open you´ll die within minutes." Galatea told her. She looked up Hjalmar. "You´ll have to carry her back to the ship while we gather up the hostages."

Even if Emma showed that she would have rather walked, she sighed and let Hjalmar pick her up. To his surprise, she quickly fell asleep when he picked her up. The augmented ears of an Adeptus Astartes were already enough to notice small noises like her soft breaths but the Vlka Fenryka had senses that would put other Space Marine chapters to shame. Hjalmar´s acute ears did not just hear her breaths, but he could even hear the slow beats of her heart.

 _Must be the blood loss._ Hjalmar thought as he walked to the platform. _Easy to forget sometimes, how little it takes for mortals._ He laughed. _It´s almost easier to forget what they can do._

Once inside the transport ship, he sat her gently down on a gurney as medics stared administering aid. They didn´t dare to strip her armor of, so they only administered blood by pushing a tub into her neck. The hostages of the noble houses were gathered up by Imperial forces and loaded onto the ship, most of them still dressed in fancy, beautiful clothes. The sight of them made Hjalmar chuckle.

* * *

They landed back outside the hive and the Inquisitor was quick to order the Imperial forces to escort the hostages to their camp, while Hjalmar and the sisters headed back to theirs. Emma, still not awake, had to be carried again by Hjalmar. They disconnected the blood-feed and patched the wound with seal-fibers. Though they also wrapped bandages around her neck to make sure the wound didn´t open.

They were walking through the camp, when a black-haired sister ran up to them. She looked pale, scared almost when she saw Emma in Hjalmar´s arms.

"Johana?" Anna said.

The sister just ignored her. She ran straight up to Hjalmar and grasped Emma´s face in her trembling hands.

"Is… is she?" Johana asked without taking her eyes from Emma.

"No." Hjalmar replied. "Bloody far from it." The moment he said that, he heard a slight whisper coming from Emma.

"J… Johana." Emma opened her eyes with a soft smile on her lips as she reached up touch her sister´s face.

Neither of them said anything to the other. They just stared into each other's eyes. Smiling blissfully while Hjalmar looked on with a raised brow and a perplexed mind.

"She´s going to have to see the hospitaler." Galatea broke in. "Now."

"You´ll have to chat later." Hjalmar said and followed Galatea. The black-haired sister stayed behind. "Who was she?" Hjalmar asked when they were a fair distance away from her.

"Johana." Emma replied, still smiling. "She´s my sister of the Talons."

"Would be I wrong to guess that you´re friends?"

"No." Emma looked up at him. "No, you wouldn´t."

After a short walk, they reached the hospitaler´s tent. Hjalmar put Emma gently down on a gurney as a sister in white examined her.

"Leave us." The hospitaler said.

Hjalmar wasn´t eager to leave Emma but figured that with the sister in white having her face hidden behind a vail, Anna only showing her face, there was probably some sacred oath about the sisters not showing their skin to others. "Aye." He walked towards the flaps of the tent and paused just before leaving. "You achieved a great victory today. They´ll be a story to tell about it, and I´ll be sure to tell the tale of Emma, the Terminator-Slayer."

* * *

Emma didn´t have time to say anything to the old wolf before he left. Nor much strength to do it either. Just trying to lift her head made the world turn. She fell back down on the gurney as the sister hospitaler, along with a servitor, started carefully peeling her armor of. Lying flat on her stomach, they started by removing the breastplate and working their way downwards until her skin beneath was exposed.

The servitor brought a collection of suction tubes and a bag of frozen blood. The hospitaler looked at the wound in her neck and frowned.

"Did they administer blood to you?" She asked with sour tone.

"I… don´t know." Emma said.

"Impure blood in a Sister of the Hawk. In the Palatine of the Talons no less." Through the little slits in the vail, Emma could see the hospitaler frowning.

"They kept me alive with that blood." Emma said. "Impure or not, the blood flows through my veins." She looked at the servitor. "And it will stay there."

The hospitaler was not pleased by what she heard. "You´ve only recently ascended to the rank of palatine."

"And I still outrank you." Emma said, struggling not to show how she felt her head swirling. "Leave the blood where is it. Administer more if you need to but don´t remove a single drop from me."

The hospitaler glared down at Emma. She snapped her fingers and waved at the servitor. The machine-slave paced away from the gurney, leaving the blood but taking the tubes with it. The hospitaler strung the blood bag up and opened Emma´s vein with thin needle-tipped tube that she pushed into Emma´s arm. The crimson quickly filled the tube and Emma could feel the cold plasma entering her bloodstream.

"Examine the wound." Emma said. "Make sure there aren´t any serious injuries."

There was a short pause but the hospitaler did as she was told. She carefully peeled away the fiber-layer Hjalmar had sprayed over her wound and started stitching her skin together with a weak dose of sedatives.

Emma grunted every time the clippers punctured her skin but she didn´t say anything about what the hospitaler was doing. She applied a layer of salve filled with nanotech robots to stitch the wound together, but it would take some time before the wound would be completely healed.

 _I am impure._ Emma thought as she felt the cold salve on her skin. _I am tainted._ _The blood of the Imperial guard isn´t. They are willing to live and die for the Emperor. They´re blood is purer than mine. That blood is a smack of purity in a body of sin._

Once the hospitaler was finished, she threw a sheet over Emma and left her to sleep with blood sipping into her system and a servitor to watch over her.

Though it would be several hours before the sun would set. Emma laid as still as she could manage on the gurney. She stared blankly into the roof and cited prayers while she heard the wolves howling outside.

 _They must have another feast._ Emma recalled what Hjalmar said before he left. _The Terminator-Slayer. It sounds better than the Belated._ She laughed a little but quickly felt a stab of pain to her side. _My sisters might call me something else. Emma the Traitor, Emma the Fool or Emma the Mad._

"Palatine of the Talons." The voice of one her sisters came from outside the tent. "There is someone looking to have an audience with you."

 _Johana._ "Send her in."

But the woman that entered wasn´t her sister. She was a skinny, young thing with long brown hair and green eyes.

"Serena?"

"Holy Palatine of the Sisters of the Hawk, please forgive my intrusion." The young woman bowed by bending her knee.

"Not at all." Emma said. "But why are you here and how did you find me?"

"Please, forgive my manners." Serena bowed again. "I was in the Imperial guard's camp but when I told them I would rather be at the side of the Sisters of the Hawk they felt obligated to gave me an escort to the camp. I came here hoping to find you. Even if I didn´t know your name, I knew you had to be someone important in the Order. But when I asked for you, your sisters told you had gone of to negotiate with the nobles. I don´t now how many hours I spent worrying, about you, hoping and praying that my parents might be spared in the Emperor´s grace. And now that I see you…"

"I defeated and killed Lord Madaro of the Blackwater. Was he your father?"

Serena shock her head. "No."

"I did see Lady Blois."

"My mother."

"She´s unharmed." _Even if she was close to Madaro._ "But I can´t let you go back to the Molncel and see her."

"Why?"

"Madaro and I made a deal. I defeated him in witness of all the noble families of Molncel and now every all of them have had to surrender their first-born children as hostages to the ecclishiarchy."

"I understand." Serena said. "Where are the other hostages being kept?"

"They are being kept by Lup´s forces."

"I do not wish to return." Serena said. "I don´t want to go back to there."

Emma looked at Serena. _She´s young. Young and scared._ "You won´t have to. You can stay by my side."

"Oh, thank you, merciful sister."

"But you must swear to never try to flee. You must also show that your faith in the Emperor is pure and untainted by the heresy that plagues your family."

Serena swallowed. "How would I have to do that?"

"By action." Emma said. "Show me that your faith is pure by proving it through actions and deeds."

"How? What actions?"

 _I have no idea._ Emma confessed to herself."Your time will come. And when it does, we will both know if you are pure of faith. Until then you will serve me."

"I will obey your every command, Sister of the Hawk."

"In that case, head my first command: leave me to sleep. My sisters will find you a place and I will deal with you in the morning."

Serena nodded and left the tent. Emma leaned back and closed her eyes. She shifted a little, trying to find a comfortable position with her wound.

" _THE TERMINATOR_ - _SLAYER!"_ The wolf´s roared. They had hardly kept quiet, but this roar was so sudden and loud it almost made Emma rise.

 _Belated or mad. Fool or traitor. If the wolves keep telling this tale the way they do, everyone from here to the capital will know of my new title by the morning._


	46. Chapter 43

The black rose chapter 43

Derik paced around the General´s tent. He quickly read through a clipboard filled with papers, occasionally stopping to sigh before turning the next page over.

"How many are we dealing with?" Garius asked.

"Eighteen." Derik put the clipboard on the General´s table.

"Hm." Garius looked at the papers. "I´ll make sure we have accommodations for them. We´ll give them what we can spare and make sure they don´t try and flee."

"Make sure to have at least two guards with them at all times. One in the front, one in the back."

"I´ll see to it." Garius flipped through a few more papers. "And now we get to the big question."

"Yes." Derik turned to the General. "Do you have something strong to drink?"

Garius pulled a bottle from his desk along with two glasses. He filled them both and pushed one towards Derik.

The Inquisitor sat down in the chair opposite Garius. He took a swig that halved the glasse´s content before sitting it down and swirling the rest of it with his hand.

Garius sipped the glass before setting it down. "So, what do we do about the Imperial Knight that Madaro brought with him?"

Derik stared at the glass. "My tech-priests will take it and tear the machine to pieces."

"Shame." Garius said with a solemn tone. "There aren´t many Imperial Knights in this system. We could make use of it."

Derik shook his head. "It´s tainted. If we try and use that machine for ourselves the sisters will declare us heretics. Might even rebel against us." He thought of the plans Alfred held and took another swig. This time emptying the glass.

"Are you certain?" Garius filled Derik´s glass. "The sisters were willing to make a deal with the heretics of this city. Maybe they are willing to make a compromise to better destroy Mountbatten."

Derik´s finger traced the edge of the glass. He stared down at the brown liquid within. _Some of them won´t. Others might. And one…_ "What do you know of Emma the Belated?"

"The new Palatine of the Talons?" Garius shrugged. "There´s not much known about her. Other than the fact that she is called the Belated because she joined the Order when she was well over ten years old."

 _Already knew that._ "Is that why she earned that nickname?"

"I think so. Why do you ask?"

Derik shrugged lightly. "Just fascinated by her performance against Madaro last night. She took quiet a grievous wound to her side and still managed to defeat him."

"Despite him wearing terminator armor." Garius added before Derik could say anything more. "The wolves made sure no one would have a chance to forget that detail of the battle."

"True that." _Though_ _I´m more curious about her old title._ "Is there any record of were she was recruited from?"

"She probably came from Mantyro. A fair number of the sisters have been recruited from that hive. Pardon me, but what does this have to do with the Imperial Knight?"

"Not an awful lot." Derik said. "I suppose I´m just getting a bit drunk."

"You, me, and the probably all of the Adeptus Astartes on this planet."

"The wolves are far drunker than we will ever be. But to return to the topic, I think we need to have the Imperial Knight decommissioned. Somehow I doubt neither the wolves or the sisters will want us to use it."

Garius sighed and sipped from his glass. "I guess its for the best."

"Make sure they both know about the Imperial Knight and what we did with it."

"Fair enough."

"Though there is however something about the presence of both Lord Madaro and his knight that concerns me."

"What´s that?"

"The fact that he was here." Derik rubbed his chin.

"Why does that concern you?"

"Because, according to the Palatine of the Tail, most of house Mountbatten have held to the fortress and have not had much involvement in the war."

"Well she´s not wrong." Garius leaned back. "When this war first started I was concerned about the nobles of Mountbatten and their Knights as a presence on the battlefield. Even if the sisters had fought alongside us from the start we would have suffered greatly trying to take them down. It seems like the Emperor is on our side. Since the war started we have not seen a single Imperial Knight deployed or even received notifications of any of Mountbatten´s noble families making any moves."

"But if most of the nobles of Mountbatten decided to stay in their fortress and seemed content to wait the war out, why did Madaro leave it? Why did he leave Mountbatten and take his Imperial Knight and his terminator armor with him?"

"What are you suspecting? That he left it out of a believe that he could help shift the war in his favor? Can hardly say I blame him if that´s the case. It wasn´t all that long ago that the sisters seemed doomed and there were no wolves to be found."

"I think he left it for a different reason."

"What?"

"The same reason that the other nobles of Mountbatten have decided to stay in their fortress and disregard the war."

"And reason would that be?"

"Heresy." Derik said. "Heresy of a completely different magnitude."

"Are you certain?"

"No." Derik answered while sinking the last of his whiskey. "Like I said, I´m getting rather drunk. If you´ll excuse me, I have to take my leave."

"Where are you going?"

"To gather intel."


	47. Chapter 44

The black rose chapter 44

The young general´s throat grated. Smog had been forming into a thick layer of fog around the Capital. He coughed, even after getting inside his transport. It was not the only thing that bothered him. The backside of his head stung with an electric tingle and his eyes were sore to the point of being dry. He hadn´t slept well for days. Each night he managed to get some time freed, he twisted and turned, hoping to calm himself enough or waiting for the weariness to take its toll and put him to sleep. Sometimes he woke at morning, his eyes still dry and tired. Most days he watched the sun climb over the horizon.

 _Emperor,_ Corvey prayed. _Grant your servant on this world guidance. He is delusional. He wants to kill your loyal subjects by burning them alive. Please bring clairvoyance to him._ The young general finished the prayer by kissing the Aquila on his necklace.

"What are you praying for?" Asked Borto, a senior officer of the Adeptus Arbites that acted as his bodyguard and escort.

"A swift end to this war and glory for the Sisters of the Hawk." Corvey replied.

"I think the sisters already got plenty of glory." Borto said. "To fight alongside the Adeptus Astartes. The Space Marines. Can you imagine it? Seeing the death and destruction they can bring?"

"I must confess, I haven´t given it much thought." Corvey said, nervously smiling. _What should I say to him?_ He´d spent the last few days studying whatever texts and scrolls he could find about the Space Wolves and their chapter. Information that would have been sealed behind thick gates for any normal citizen of the Imperium. Hours upon hours, he spent pouring through texts, desperately memorizing and making notes of everything he could get his hands on. 

"I swear," Borto said. "If I only had one of member of the Adeptus Astartes I would be able to clear these streets of crime within a year."

"Well, we should all strife to perfect our duty to the Emperor."

"Spoken like a true servant to the Imperium." Borto took a piece of chew-baco and pushed it under his fat lip. "Curios that the governor choose to delay your meeting for so long."

"Alfred is a very busy man. Particularly now, in times of war."

"But that should not last long. The Sisters of the Hawk fighting alongside the Space Marines? The heretics would be wise surrender while they still have the chance."

"You are probably right." Corvey stared down at floor and noticed his foot tapping the floor.

"Then again," Borto continued not noticing Corvey´s foot. "If they did surrender we wouldn´t have any mercy for the damn fools."

"Would you be befitting them with the usual punishment for heresy?" Corvey asked, trying to find steady his leg.

"You mean the punishment I deal out for the usual bastard I find in the streets? No. Their crimes are not just against us, but against the Emperor´s own will. I would have them take a walk of shame through burning coals. Then again, that´s pretty mild compared to what the sisters usually do to heretics." Borto snorted in amusement.

They arrived at the cathedral a few moments later. The hovercraft landed on the outside platform. Before it touched down, there was a hard blowout of pressure that smoothed the deceleration of the vehicle down before it hit the ground with a hard slam.

The air was grating, even up here. Corvey put a cloth over his mouth only to have the machine fumes sting in his eyes. He hurried himself across the bridge, Borto following behind him. No sister came to greet him. Corvey was instead meet with a servo-skull that quickly scanned his identity and granted him access. The moment he entered, the young general was greeted by the Governor of Prostoru and Cardinal of the capital, Alfred Nebuso. He was dressed in his usual simple cloth, with two hidden sisters at his side, both dressed in similarly, simple robes. His dull eyes seemed to stare into a void, like he couldn´t even see the young general before him.

"Cardinal." Corvey kneeled before Alfred. "I thank you for receiving me in these times of war."

"Rise general." Alfred said.

Corvey did as he was told. He looked Alfred in the eye, but Alfred did not look back. The grey, murky eyes could have been jerking from one end to the other, or they could remain completely unfaced. There was no way for Corvey to tell.

"There were matters you whished to discuss with me." Alfred said.

"Yes. I wish to discuss your plans and the arrival of the Adeptus Astartes on this planet."

"Ah, yes. My plans and the Space Wolves." Alfred said. "These are certainly matters that warrant discussion." He snapped his fingers and all the sisters in the hall jerked to attention. "Leave us."

As the sisters were gathering themselves, Corvey turned to Borto and gestured for him to leave as well.

"So," Alfred said when they were alone. "What is that you whish to discuss with me?"

"I… I have given your plans to purge the capital some thoughts."

"Yes?"

"And I can´t help to wonder why you haven´t initiated the plan yet."

"Don´t be a fool." Alfred said. "I will not let the Sisters of the Hawk; my sisters be denied their chance at purity through death by the holy flames."

 _Derik was right._ Corvey held a sigh back. "I was in prayer and a thought crossed my mind. Perhaps the Sisters of the Hawk are achieving a greater purity by fighting alongside the Emperor´s Angels of Death."

"Hmh."

"Would you not consider your plans to be redundant?"

"Do you know the what chapter these warriors originate from?"

"They are Space Wolves, or the Vlka Fenryka."

"Exactly. The sons of Russ. The most arrogant and brutish of the Emperor´s loyal sons. Do you think that they posses the virtue and purity worthy of the Emperor´s will?"

"But my lord, the Space Wolves have always remained loyal to the Emperor. During the Age of Heresy, they safeguarded the other legions and prosecuted the traitor primarch, Magnus the Red."

"Have you seen the Space Wolves fight?" Alfred asked with his creaking voice carrying an edge of anger. "Have you?"

"No, my lord."

"Long ago, before your birth, before I even meet your father, I was a soldier on the Cadian gate." What Alfred was saying was nothing that he had ever made a secret of.

 _He loves telling this story._ Corvey kept his mouth shut. There was no point in stopping Alfred from telling the story again.

"I saw Space Marines from all across the Galaxy fighting the demonic hoards that spill from the wound in our reality that is the Eye of Terror." He looked up at the celling, at the cobalt blue warriors depicted in the painting. "And none can match the purity and vigilance of the Ultramarines."

"The Space Wolves may not have much consideration for the Codex Astartes but they are a chapter of honor and glory were the strongest and fiercest warriors rise through their ranks. There´s no reason not to trust their skill and strength."

"The Space Wolves are drunks and fools. I don´t put my faith in drunken fools. I put my faith in the Emperor." Alfred put his hands over his chest and smiled.

"And the Sisters of the Hawk?"

Alfred sighed. "Yes, I have faith in them. Faith that will carry them to the Emperor once I purge them of the taint of their sins."

"Their sin of fighting alongside the sons of Russ? Is that a sin worthy of such has punishment? Surely the sisters can still be redeemed."

"Their sins are not only of fighting alongside the impure and the brutish. Their sins also range into making deals with the heretics themselves."

Corvey was puzzled, shocked almost by the last note Alfred made.

"But fear not, my plan will purify them in the eyes of the Emperor."

Corvey bit his lip. "Forgive me, but why do you house such love for the Ultramarines and garner the distain for the Space Wolves? Shouldn´t they all be equal in the eyes of the Emperor for being loyal sons of their gene-fathers?"

Alfred sighed and slowly nocked his head back and forth. "The Ultramarines are not only the most disciplined and staunch of all Space Marines, but they are the reason you and I are having this conversation. And the wolves almost made sure I would never have felt the light of the Emperor."

"What?"

Alfred sat down in one of the benches. "I was still young the day they came. The Wolves and the Ultramarines. They came to Cadia accompanied by the Mechanicum, saying that there was a treasure of unbelievable value on planet just on the edge of the border of reality. They came asking for troops and volunteers for their expedition into the Eye of Terror. The Wolves promised great rewards for those who followed them, and Ultramarines cautioned about dangers of this mission." Alfred smiled nostalgically. "I thought myself powerful. Immortal even, and so did my comrades. We´d taken on the demons that bleed from the Eye of Terror. I´d seen traitor Astartes fall to our guns, and here was a chance to earn glory that other soldiers can only dream of. We accepted the mission without hesitation. The Wolves held a great feast before we left, we drank and ate more food in one night than most citizens of the Imperium eat in a month. The Ultramarines didn´t join us in this feast. They stayed at their altars, praying. We set of into the Eye a few days after that." Alfred blinked slowly and stared at Corvey with a blank expression. "I look at you, young general Ironfield, and I still see the shapes of the devils dancing before me as their claws tore my comrades to pieces. I listen to the sound of my cathedral and I hear the screams of the sirens, their songs mesmerizing and terrifying at the same time. I touch my walls and I feel the warmth and frost coming of the ground that we stood on.

"And there was the Wolves. At first, they fought valiantly alongside the Ultramarines but then there was a… change."

"What happened?"

"Their fangs grew, their armor started tearing asunder as they grew larger inside them. Their faces, marked by wild nobility, were buried underneath a tide of hair growing out of them like worms. Their jaws protruded until they became raw, uncontrollable beasts. They attacked everything within range. They tore my comrades apart and feasted on their guts. The Ultramarines turned to save us, at the cost of their own lives. I remember the last one of the Ultramarines, brother Carlo, and the last Space Wolf fighting each other. The Wolf leaped towards his forgotten brother with slaver and blood running from his mouth. He tore Carlo´s throat out with a single bite and Carlo buried his fist in under the wolf´s ribcage. He ripped both hearts out of the Wolf with his bare hands." Alfred blinked, his eyes watering. "He looked at me, a smile on his lips before he fell to the ground. I tried waking him up, but it was to late. We were alone there on the planet."

"And how did you manage to escape?"

"By a miracle. While my comrades were trying to the find shelter and guard themselves from the next wave of demons, I kept pushing with our mission. They called me mad and said I would die out there. But I knew we were all dead. But those who have nothing, still has their life to give. I headed towards the coordinates and found an old temple. A place of worship and prayer. Do you know what I found in it?"

Corvey shacked his head.

"I found death. Remains of humans and xenos filth, both fresh and ancient. I waded through the flesh, both rotting and dry, and descended down a spiraling stair case so deep a feared I would fall into the void should I slip. The deeper I got, the more I could feel the corruption of Chaos. I heard screams coming out of the walls. Screams of women, children and men. Screams of pain and pleasure. I wasn´t sure how, but I somehow managed to ignored them all and finally found what we had been sent there to collect. A fragment, no larger than my hand, in the center of a cobweb of wires and machines. All gathering around this little piece of machinery. No larger than a closed fist but I recognized it immediately. It was an STC, or as the Mechanicum prefers to call it, a standard template construct. It seemed so strange to me, that this little thing could be worth so much, but I pulled it from its socket and ran. I ran as the screams built behind me, I ran as I could hear the demons chasing after me. I didn´t look back. I didn´t dare to. I just did like my drill sergeant taught me and put one foot in front of the other." As gentle as a lover, Alfred stroked the bench he sat on. "Do you know how the Warp works?"

"It is the domain of corruption and demons. It is the Immaterium, were Chaos thrives." "Corvey answered.

"That is what the Warp is. Do you know what happens when you enter the Warp? Do you know how time and places flows in the Immaterium?"

"No." Corvey admitted. "I don´t know."

"The answer is that both time and place ceases. One minute could pass and feel like a hundred years. A hundred years could pass and feel like a single minute. You could run a hundred miles and feel like you have only taken a single step. You could feel like you ran a hundred miles and looked down to see that you have only moved a single step. It all happens at the whims of the Dark Gods. That is what it is in the Warp.

"So, there I was, running as fast as my legs would carry me. I swore I ran up the length of the stair several times over, but every time I looked down, I had only moved a single step. I could feel the demons breathing behind me. Their claws grasping at my back, tearing into my flesh. I tried peeling them off, but I only felt my blood boiling as my fingers came close to them. I tried my maddest to run but they just laughed and pulled me closer. I was to be their plaything, they were going to use me for their games for all eternity." Alfred leaned back into the bench. "I put my hand flat on my chest and begged the Emperor for forgiveness. I hoped he would forgive me for failing him. Then, the light came. White, blinding and heavenly, it banished the demons back to where they came from. I opened my eyes and there stood Carlo. Blood still squirted from the wound in his neck but he radiated with the light. He screamed and charged forth, bolter barking in his hand. I closed my eyes again and begged. When I opened my them, I was back outside on the surface and a Valkyrie was descending from the sky." Alfred stared forward roughly staring at where Corvey stood. "When I came back, for completing my task, I was rewarded with my position as planetary governor of this system. You can perhaps see why I do not idealize the Sons of Russ. They are strong and loyal, but they lack discipline and will lose their control when tested by the forces of Chaos. It was by preaching the discipline and rigorous, unbreakable will of the Ultramarines that I became the cardinal of this system."

"It is not the only reason you are cardinal."

"What do you mean?"

"You possess the staunch and firm devotion to take decisions that none other can." Corvey took a short breath through his teeth. "Which is why is must ask you second time, consider what you are doing and try to see if this is truly the righteous path to take."

"I advise you to take the same consideration, young general."


	48. Chapter 45

The black rose chapter 45

 _Another day, another hive city._ Derik ascended in his ship. Hive Mantory was smaller than Molncel but a hive was still a hive. The peak of the city reached at least five hundred meters upward, though unlike its hive-brothers these peaks could only dream of grasping the clouds hovering above. Form his vessel, Derik could see the entire city, from the peaks to the base. The upper points coated in shining metal that formed churches and cathedrals while the base was blackened by years of smudged air. From his little vessel, Derik could only imagine the debauchery and filth that would be practiced down there.

" _This is flight administorum of Hive Mantory._ " A vox-voice said. " _Please identify yourself._ "

"Greetings flight administorum." Derik replied. "This is personal class flight carrier, ID number six-five-eight-D-B-T, being piloted by Inquisitor Derik Horst of Ordo Hereticus."

" _Affirmative. Welcome holy Inquisitor. Escort ships will arrive shortly to guide you to landing platform eight._ "

Less than three minutes later, two ships that were at least twice the size of his ship. Their weight and bulky being mostly attributed to additional weaponry welded onto them by the mechanicum. They guided Derik´s ship down into a platform before leaving him to circle around the pillars of the hive.

Derik set his vessel down and was quickly greeted by a preacher dressed in white robes with a bald cut head.

"Holy Inquisitor, agent of the Emperor´s will, I bid you welcome to the glorious city Mantory."

"Greetings." Derik replied. "Let me be quick and to the point. I am here to have a look into your archives."

"As is your right, Inquisitor." The preacher lead Derik into the monestary. "Is there any particular that you search?"

"Yes. I am looking for the recruitment records for the Sisters of the Hawk."

"That will of course be granted, but, may I ask why you want to look into our archives?"

Derik looked down at the preacher and puzzled for a short moment. "Of course. I am here to perform a quick investigation of heraldry of one of the sisters. I suspect that she might originate from a noble house that has sided with the heretics."

"Holy Inquisitor, forgive me but you are aware that all Sisters of the Hawk surrender their family name upon taking their oaths? Their only family they know are their sisters and their father in faith, the Emperor."

Derik bit his lip. "Heresy is an infectious root. Once it takes hold it will spread to even the most distant branches. Therefore, my investigation must be kept under an oath of silence."

"Your will is that of the Emperor, it must be followed."

"Now take me to the archives."

"That may not be necessary. What is the name of the sister you are investigating? Perhaps the priest who took her oath is still with us."

Derik weighed his options. "Emma. Emma, the Palatine of the Talons."

"Also known as the Belated."

 _And the Terminator-Slayer._ "You know of her?"

"I do." The preacher said. "I also know the priest who took her oath. Let me take you to him."

* * *

The man that Derik was presented with was old. Older than Alfred, his face was hanging from his face leathery, wrinkly sacks. Though this man could still plainly see, and forced a smile when Derik and the preacher approached.

"Brother." The old man greeted the preacher. "Inquisitor."

"Brother." The preacher answered. "This is Inquisitor Derik Horst of Ordo Hereticus. He is here to ask you some questions about one of the sisters you initiated."

"Who?"

"Emma the Belated." Derik said.

"Ah, yes I remember her." He smiled nostalgically and looked over to the preacher. "You can leave us."

The preacher made two quick bows and left.

"Alfrestan." The old man extended his hand.

The Inquisitor shook it. "Derik."

"Now, Inquisitor, what do you want to know about Emma?"

"First of all, her name. Why is she called the Belated?"

"If you are here to ask about Emma, then you already know about the reason for her title."

Derik scoffed slightly. "In that case, tell me what you know about her."

"Oh, where to start. The first time I meet her she was just a young little girl. She´d run away from home and wanted to seek comfort in a cathedral where I tended to my congregation. Such a small little thing. She refused to tell me where she came from and where her mother lived. I of course asked if her mother had been cruel to her, but she just said, with sincerity, no and I decided not to push the question any further. I just granted the little girl safety and let her stay the night. The next morning a, woman came looking for her. She had sun-kissed hair with blue eyes, just like Emma. I showed her to her daughter and Emma immediately threw herself into her mother´s arms." He chuckled warmly. "Children at that age. Emma probably just got angry at her mother and decided that she could manage on her own without her mother's help. I remember doing similar things when I was her age.

"She started coming to sermons regularly after that. Her mother always seemed to be less enthusiastic about it and would only come with her daughter on occasion, other times she would wait outside the cathedral or just not take part in the prayer."

"Where was this cathedral?" Derik asked.

"In a lower part of the hive." Alfrestan gave Derik a sly smile. "I know what you are thinking; the lower levels of a hive? How could any priest or preacher ever have a cathedral there? It would be destroyed or plundered by gangs before the doors would have a chance to be opened."

"So how did you avoid that?"

"I didn´t have to. During my twenty years of service in the lower parts of this city, I have never had a knife pushed to my throat or a gun drawn to my chest. The cathedral was neutral ground, for the Emperor does not boast violence towards his worshipers. Even when rival gang members decided to enter my halls, they would surrender their weapons and pray for the Emperor´s blessing in peace."

"So it was sanctuary." Derik said.

"Yes, a sanctuary in an abyss of blood and debauchery." Alfrestan leaned forward, resting his chin on his hand. "The things I saw outside of my cathedral… it made my blood boil has much as it broke my spirit. The things I saw some of the gangs do to each other, all in the name of power. The lower parts of a hive are fat, hideous blots being squeezed by the higher levels. And sometimes it bursts in sprays of warm blood."

"But what about Emma?" Derik tried to draw him back to the topic. "She joined the Sisters of the Hawk at an unusually high age, how come she didn´t join earlier?"

Alfrestan sighed. "I didn´t want her to join the Sisters of the Hawk. Emma´s a kind and merciful soul, a virtue I could see in her mother as well. Both of them blessed by the sun. She was not meant for the purging of heresy, no. She was meant to spread the Emperor´s blessed Light."

"What happened?"

"She stopped coming to ceremonies and sermons. Several months went by and I didn´t see a shadow of her. I assumed she´d died or lost her faith. Each night, I took a moment to pray for her soul. And then one day, she came back. She was destroyed by sorrow. She tried hiding it but was written all over her. I asked her what had happened, why she had been missing for so many months. But she, of course, refused to answer." Alfrestan took a long breath. "She only told me she wanted, no needed, to join the Sisters of the Hawk."

"Could it be that her mother died?" Derik asked.

Alfrestan shook his head. "No, she came by some time after, looking for Emma and I told her what happened. Haven´t seen her since. But tell me, where is Emma now?"

"She is with the Talons of the Hawk. In fact, she was recently raised to Palatine."

"Oh, by the Emperor." Alfrestan rubbed his temple. "I was told by her mother that Emma would chase younger girls around, beat them up if she caught them. I didn´t believe it, I didn´t want to think she had a knack for violence. And now I´ve been made a fool of."

"How did she join the Sisters of the Hawk despite her age?"

"Thanks to me. Despite my better judgment, I hoped that she would perform the test of purity and either be scared of or simply fail the test. But even then, Emma managed to surprise me. She passed the test and was accepted."

Derik knew well of the tests of faith orders of the Adepta Sororita would perform on early recruits to ensure their loyalty and purity. _To describe them as painful would only cloak the truth. Most young girls who attempt it fail and are sent back to monasteries or just dismissed from their order. Seems like she was quite resistant to pain, even back then._ "Did they accept her despite having no training?"

"To quote the Sister who accepted her recruitment; training and ability are nothing without purity and faith. On that day, Emma showed both."

 _And yet…_ "You do not have any idea of where Emma lived before she joined the sisters?"

"I know your kind Inquisitor. You like to have eyes and ears everywhere."

"It makes it difficult for people to surprise me."

"Then this should not surprise you, I have no idea where she lived or where, if her mother is still alive, she might be either. You might as well ask me where the rats running through our walls were born."

"I understand. Thank you for your time."

"Before you leave, Inquisitor, I have a question for you."

"Let´s hear it."

"Would you let an old man, who holds Emma precious regard, hear your suspicions about her?"

"What makes you so inclined to know?" Derik folded his arms.

Alfrestan simply looked at him.

"I suspect that the reason Emma disappeared for so long and refused to share any reason for her sorrow with you is because she wants it kept a secret. The truth behind it being something that the Sisters of the Hawk look down on with a harsh disdain."

"And, if you are right, what will you do?"

"I will safekeep that secret."


	49. Chapter 46

The black rose chapter 46

The wound still stung. The hospitaler had only given her a minimum amount of sedatives, which made climbing out of the bed all the more of painful.

"Palatine, are you certain you can manage this?" Serena asked as Emma pushed herself to the edge of the bed.

"Just give me my crutch." Emma said. _If I have to stay another minute in this bed, I swear I´m going to…_ She stopped herself. Just moving her head and clenching her teeth to suddenly would produce another stab. She needed something to lean on something so the muscles on her side wouldn´t become strained.

"Here." Serena presented Emma with a simple wooden crutch. She took it and placed it under her arm.

Emma took a few careful steps as she tested it. She took a few steps forward. The pain was still there but it wasn´t stabbing anymore so much as lingering. "Come with me."

"Yes, Palatine." Serena hurried after her like an eager lapdog.

 _Palatine._ Emma thought bitterly. _It sounded awkward when Johana said it. Coming out of this young girl it just sounds cursed._

The two of them left the tent and walked through the camp. Emma had barely managed to take more than five steps outside before she was stopped by one of the wolves.

"Terminator-Slayer!" The barking voice of Tor said. "The sister who submitted an entire city with just single strike of her blade. How are you managing after pummeling the heretical bastard into the ground?"

"I´m alright." Emma replied, trying not to chuckle at what Tor was saying.

"Sounds like it was a bloody good fight." He sighed with a heavy growl. "I only regret I didn´t follow you, to see you best a man in terminator armor in single combat. With massive gash in your side to boot." He smiled and gave Emma light slap on her shoulder, though it was almost enough to knock her of balance.

"From what I heard, Hjalmar painted quite the picture of what happened."

"Oh, you haven´t a clue. Hjalmar has always been a great story-teller, but when he has tale like yours to tell…" Tor stared up at the sky. "Even the Wolf Lords back at Fenris will be glad to hear this tale of triumph. But regardless, what´s that little shy thing you´ve got hiding behind you?"

Emma looked behind her and realized that Serena was crouching behind her back, as if she was afraid of the wolf.

Tor snorted. He leaned in close so that only Emma could hear him. "I´ll just leave the two of you. Seems like I spooked the little one." The wolf turned and left them.

Serena slowly came out from behind Emma as Tor paced away.

"I know." Emma said in an assuring voice. "They seem large, brutish and scary at first but then," _You realize they smell of booze._ "you start seeing the nobility to these barbaric warriors."

"I… I shall try my best to see the bright aspects of these warriors."

"It will take time, but eventually you will be able to see them for what they are." _Feasting, hungry and jolly savages from a planet different from ours._ Emma smiled as she realized her thirst for another tankard of ale.

"It's just that, they are so different from the Space Marines written in the stories written and preached by the clerics of our holy Emperor."

"They are different. They are not the sons of Guilliman. They are the Sons of Russ and they have become our brothers in arms for this war."

"Where will this war take us next?" Serena asked.

Emma raised a brow at the question but dismissed her suspicion. "You´ll see when we get there."

"And when we do? What then?"

"Stay as far behind the lines as you can." _The wolves are a terrifying force to watch in battle. She´ll be scarred if she bears witness to it._ Emma turned and gestured for Serena to follow her.

It felt like a lead boulder was hanging from her side. The pain had become such a constant to her that it was manageable, but every step still felt heavy. Thankfully they didn´t have to walk for long until they reached Galatea´s tent. The sisters outside greeted Emma and let her in. When Serena tried to follow she was quickly halted by the guards.

"Wait outside." Emma said as she entered the tent.

"Emma?" Galatea said with an edge of surprise to her voice.

"Galatea." Emma greeted the Palatine. "Lilly."

"Can you walk already?" Galatea asked.

"With the support of this." Emma said.

Galatea chuckled with a hint of irritation.

"What´s so funny?" Emma asked.

"The moment my arm starts becoming usable," Galatea raised her right arm and flexed her fist with the limb trembling. "You have to use a crutch to walk around."

"The Hospitaler tells me the healing ointments will speed up the healing. What´s our next move?"

"Now? We wait."

"Wait for what?"

"For the wolves to stop feasting, for Sophia to come out of her tent, for the Imperial Guard to gather up the hostages and for the Inquisitor to return." Galateas voice made the words sound and feel heavy.

Emma could see the Imperial Guard staking time to organize themselves, Sophia hiding away from sisters she might find to have betrayed her and the wolves taking the time to enjoy themselves, but the last thing Emma had to question. "Where´s the Inquisitor gone of to?"

"How should I know?" Galatea grunted. "All I was told was that he left on some mission to gather intel. Somehow I doubt that anyone but him knows anything else." There was weariness to Galateas flesh-and-blood eye. It made it looked dry, hungry for sleep. She rubbed the corner of her eye with her index finger and looked at Emma with her mechanical eye. "Have you elected a Sister Superior yet?"

Emma inhaled slowly. She held the breath for a second before releasing it. "I made an offer. She refused."

"Who was it?"

"Johana of the Talons."

"The same Johana who ran up to you when we arrived?"

"Yes."

Galatea drummed her fingers impatiently on the table. "She seemed concerned about you, and happy to know that you are alive. Did she tell you why she refused?"

"She told me that she has an oath to honor, that she would either rise through the ranks or die a glorious death at the hands of our enemies."

"So?" Galatea shrugged. "Why did she refuse?"

Emma closed her eyes and felt her heart pounding. "She can´t rise through the ranks anymore."

"Why?"

Biting through the pain, Emma turned on her crutch and started hurrying out the tent.

"Where are you going?" Galatea the voice she used to command.

"I´ll go to Sophia and get her to come out of her tent." _I´ll drag her out if it makes you forget this._ Walking at a pace quick enough to make her worry that the wound would rupture again, Emma left the tent.

* * *

The ground felt cold on her naked feet. She looked down and noticed the dirt had started gathering around her toes. The wind would brush against her robes, tug at her black hair and bite her ears with a chill. Though she knew they weren´t there, Johana could hear screams in her ears.

" _Hey,_ " A thick, large voice said.

Johana turned and saw one of the Space Wolves coming towards her. She recognized him by his bushy rust-red beard and sheer size. He was the wolf that followed Emma and the others into the hive, he was the one who carried her back home. Though he seemed to have a friendly face under his beard, the mass and length of it made him look like a bear clad in sky-grey armor with bald spots around his eyes and lips.

"Aren´t you the sister who came up to Emma?" The old wolf asked.

"Yes." Johana strained her neck upwards to look the wolf in the eye.

"What was your name again? Jeanne? Janna?"

"Johana."

"That's it." He threw his head back in realization. "Hjalmar Hargen." He extended a hand that looked large enough to engulf Johana´s head.

With a grace Johana didn´t expect, Hjalmar carefully grasped her hand.

"So why are you waddling about without your armor?" He looked down at her feet. "Or your shoes?"

"I´m…"

"You on a pilgrimage of purity or something?" Hjalmar asked when Johana paused.

"Something like that." Johana answered with a cold voice.

"Hur." Hjalmar flapped his thick lip in a chuckle. "You´re a bloody strange order of the Adepta Sorita. Some of you are talking walks of redemption while others are making deals with heretics." He laughed.

"What deal did you strike?"

"That if Emma could defeat their champion, Lord Madaro, in a duel they would not only surrender and stay in this city for the rest of the war, but they would also have to surrender the first-born child of every family as hostages."

"Emma won. Is that why you yelled Terminator-Slayer all night?"

"Its not the only bloody reason. The bastard put a massive wound in her side, and she still took him down." Hjalmar smiled thinking about it. "Even my brothers would have a tough time with that."

"How did she do it?"

"That´s where it gets funny. She blew the magazine of her boltpistol into the exhaust grill of the armor. It butchered the machine spirit and then the armor couldn´t move on its own. He was trapped inside his own bloody armor. Har! He couldn´t even lift his arm."

Johana jerked at the thought. For a flash, she was transported back to the trench. Back under the torrent of mud that pinned her to the wall.

"You alright?" Hjalmar asked.

"I´m fine." Johana grabbed her arm.

"You sure? You looked a little pale there for a second. You certain that the chill isn´t starting to nip you a little hard?"

"Its not the cold, its…" Johana looked up at Hjalmar. "I got trapped behind a wall of mud. It collapsed on top of me and I ended up completely buried under it."

"Oh, sorry." Hjalmar apologized. "How did you get out of it?"

"Emma. She dropped her sword and let a bolter hammer her side while she dug me out of it."

"Kraken swallow me whole." Hjalmar said. "You should be proud to call Emma, the Terminator-Slayer, your sister."

"Because she saved my life?"

"No." Hjalmar shook his head. "Any bloody idiot can put in a bit of effort to save someone else. Takes far more to risk your own life for someone else's. It's a bloody honest display of strength and zealotry."

"Are you certain?"

Hjalmar chuckled. "Aye. But I´m curious, would you do the same for Emma?"

"Yes." Johana answered immediately.

Hjalmar leaned. His grey eyes shot Johana with a gaze that made them look like frost-covered rocks. "What if I was the one who threatened her? What if I stood between you and Emma, and I would butcher both you if you came close." Between the thick bushes of his beard, Johana saw his sharp fangs peaking out from his lip. "Would you still come for her?"

Johana stared up at Hjalmar. She looked at his fangs and into his eyes. Unflinching, her eyes narrowed. "Without a second thought."

* * *

Emma stood outside the tent of the Palatine. The sisters guarding the tent held their weapons at the ready, but they parted when Emma walked up to them and, once again, they stopped Serena from entering despite her trying.

A mist of heavy incense was the first thing that meet Emma when he entered the tent. The smell was so strong and the steam so thick, it stung Emma´s eye and made her cough.

"Why?" A voice altered by machines asked. "Why have you come here, Emma the Belated?"

Emma staggered forth on her crutch. "I´ve come to get you out of here."

"That´s rich." Sophia sat before an altar with half-melted candles dripping thick saps of wax from their sticks. Her hands joined in prayer as she turned her bead necklace. "The fallen sister has come to drag the one still who´s still pure down with them. Was it Galatea or the foolish Inquisitor who told to do this?"

"It was neither of them. I´m here by my own volition."

"Of course you are." Sophia said without turning. "Who else but you, who gave the Inquisitor the chance he needed to spare the heretics. You, who let the men who killed your sisters, _our_ _sisters_ , be spared cleansing would ever think to drag me down with you." Sophia looked over her shoulder and meet Emma´s eyes. "Tell me, is this all some kind of plot by you and the Inquisitor?"

"What are you suggesting?"

"You know damn well what I´m suggesting." Sophia rose from the altar. She was dressed in the same robes all sisters whore outside of combat but the augmentations that where drafted to her neck and chest made Emma flinch when she looked a them. "The Canoness dies shortly after the Inquisitor meets her, and then he brings his damnable wolves down to the planet just before he raises you to Palatine of the Talons. Soo answer my question; are you plotting with the Inquisitor?"

Emma flexed her fist and felt her lip twitching. "I hate the Inquisitor." Emma forced her the words to get a hard edge. It was the accusation that angered her more. "I hate the way he looks at me. I hate the way he talks. I hate it when he tries to lay his hand on me. I would sooner plot with the Watchers of the Blackwater than with him."

"And yet you were willing to make a deal with the heretics, you have elected to follow his plans and ideas. He was even the one who elected you. Is this all part of his plan to tear us from the Emperor´s Light so he can use us for his own plans?"

Emma opened her mouth. She felt the words on her mouth but was quick to stop herself. "If we are to win this war, we need all our strength. Once Mountbatten has been defeated, we will deal with the Inquisitor and his plans."

"How far will we fall until we reach that point? What more will we do in the name of sparing the traitors to the Emperor?"

Emma sucked in a breath through her barely parted lips. "We will do what it takes to smite the Emperor´s foes and bring peace to this system." _However long it may last._ "For how many years have we purged the heretics in this system? We keep hunting them down, cleansing them in flames and yet they keep returning. Is this what Emperor would have wanted from us?"

"Heresy is like a weed." Sophia said. "And the Eye is a tree, extending its invisible branches, grasping and tainting everything and everyone that comes within its grasp. It falls to those pure of faith to pluck away at these branches, but that is all we can do. We have keep the growth at bay, otherwise it will take root and corrupt."

"Then why don´t you just stay here, in our tent? Wait for the war to pass or return to the Capital. I´m sure Alfred will be overjoyed to find you back there with the war still proceeding without you."

Sophia's face flared up with anger and Emma regret the words she said. Sophia rushed up to Emma like she was about to push the crutch away from her.

Emma grabbed the crutch with both arms in anticipation. She tried masking her fear by biting her lip, but she could feel her arms trembling.

"The Belated." Sophia said, her voice thick with contempt. "That´s a title to kind for you and your actions. The Fool. That´s a fitting title for you. Emma the Fool."

With a slow grunt, Emma left Sophia´s tent without another word.

* * *

The sun had sunk below the horizon and a black sky marked by white, blinking stars watched down on the camp. Each one of the stars were barely larger than a grain of sand but each looked like a little diamond to the eyes of those below. Though they were quickly swallowed by the vortex of swirling purple and red light that burned above them. Reaching forth and consuming every star that came within the grasp of the spectral tendrils.

 _The Eye of Terror._ Johana thought as she stared up at it.

She still walked barefoot through the camp. The dirt and cold had wrapped themselves around her feet and made them numb. Both her hands grasped the bead necklace around her neck as her black hair reached down and brushed against the dry skin of her knuckles. Her sisters and the wolves would walk past her as she walked through the camp. Her sisters would at most throw her a concerned look before moving along with their duties, whereas the wolves barely noticed her. Quietly, Johana hoped not to run into the old wolf, Hjalmar, again. The images flashed when she blinked. Ferocious, like starved beasts, they attacked her.

The ground beneath her feet shifted from dry dirt to a carpet covered in it. Johana looked up and realized where she was. The tent belonging to the Palatine of the Talons. The tent´s fabric flapped as a gust of wind ran through it. The flaps of the tent were pushed back, and Johana caught a glance of those inside. She saw Emma with her long golden hair reaching down across her back and someone else, a younger girl that Johana didn´t recognize.

The flaps fell back before either of them had a chance to see Johana and she felt the wind bite her skin again. She clutched the necklace with one hand as her other hand wrapped around her hand. Her fingers looked like claws when they reached out over her hand and dug into her skin. Little flakes of her skin started peeling of in the path of her finger´s nails dragging themselves across her hand. She closed her eyes and heard her blood running through her veins.

She took a step forth and stopped herself. _Run…_

Her legs carried her forth. She felt the flaps of the tent brush against her and soon the warmth inside pierced through her robes and started wrapping around her. She took a few more steps.

"Johana?"

She opened her eyes and realized she was inside the tent. Emma sat on a bench, looking over her shoulder with her back still facing Johana. The girl stared at her in confusion and almost dropped the bottles she held in her arms.

"Who are you?" The young girl asked.

"Johana." Emma answered. "My sister of the Talons." She turned to the young girl. "You can leave."

"But, my Palatine-"

"I said leave." Emma said, removing the softness from her voice.

The girl took her bows and put the bottles back in their shelf before leaving the tent.

"Who was she?" Johana asked once she was gone.

"Serena Blois." Emma said as she pulled her robes over her shoulders and took her crutch. "She´s my…. Steward. She´s been with me since I came back from the hive." Emma limbed around the bench. "She was just applying some healing ointments to my wound."

Johana looked down at Emma´s side. "Is it healing well?"

"Better than my pride." Emma said with a lack of humor.

A cold, heavy stone started growing her stomach. "What happened?" Johana asked.

"I tried to make my sister palatine, Sophia, come back from her self-appointed isolation and all I got from it was a new title; the Fool."

The stone started moving, quivering. "You´re no fool, Emma."

"To her I am. To the wolves, I am the Terminator-Slayer. To some, I am still the Belated."

"It doesn't matter what they call you." Johana took a few steps towards Emma. "The Emperor always knows the truth."

"He does. He knows that I am the whore who lied to become accepted into the Sisters of the Hawk. He knows…" Emma looked up at Johana, her lips giving a flash of a smile before sinking.

"Emma," Johana took another step forward and laid her hand on Emma´s shoulder. "You climbed the ranks because you saved us outside the fortress. I saw you and I followed your orders. If it weren´t you, we would have been torn to shreds between those trenches. Hjalmar told me what happened inside that the hive. How many sisters do you think would have lost their lives trying to take down a man hiding inside terminator armor? You did it. Alone, with that wound in your side. Emma, what do you think the Emperor will remember about you? The lies or the deeds?"

Emma half smiled. She put her hand on Johana´s. "He will remember and know everything. And judge me by it. Perhaps the Sons of Russ, the gene-inheritors of the Emperor, might reflect his judgment." Her fingers gently wrapped around Johana´s wrist.

Johana´s hand crawled slowly forward. Carefully tracing along Emma´s shoulder and up to her neck. Without thinking, Johana leaned in closer to her sister.

Emma´s lips parted. "J…"

She felt stiff at first, and Johana tensed. She was about to pull back when Emma grasped the back of her head and held her softly in place. Johana felt her hands tenderly grasping Emma´s shoulders as her sister's fingers held a handful of her black hair, tickling her scalp. For a short moment the camp, the war, the images, it all faded away. As if time itself slept as Johana´s heart woke. She could only feel Emma´s lips gently embracing her own.

Then Johana tasted a stream of salty water. She opened her eyes and saw tears slowly rolling down Emma´s cheeks as she broke the kiss.

"We…" Emma said and the stone Johana´s stomach returned. "We can´t." The stone charged up to her throat and pressed up against her jaw. "I… I became Palatine of the Talons so that the Emperor might grant me the mercy to see my son again." She looked at Johana. "I can´t risk it."

"Its…" The stone sank, down to her heart and grew. The chill of it burned as Johana slowly paced away from her sister. "Its fine…."

Emma reached for her sister, but Johana took another step back. Turning on her heel, Johana ran out of the tent.

She ran. She ran past sisters and wolves alike. She ran until she was outside the camp and kept running. The ground turned from dirt to sand and then, with a loud splash, it became wet. She didn´t stop. She kept running until her the water was up to her stomach and then she threw herself forward. It was cold and piercing, like needles of ice pushing through her skin. She listened to the sound of it, she listened to the silence with closed eyes, and the images attacked again. Shadows screaming as they bit into her mind with curled fangs. They devoured all her senses and tore them apart between themselves like pieces of raw meat. The screams…. The screams returned, wet and sharp. She saw it all again. With a jerk, she pulled herself to the surface and stared at her reflection in the rippling water.

 _An oath for honor. An oath for love._ She looked up. _Damn them both._


	50. Chapter 47

The black rose chapter 47

"About time you made your return." Galatea said as the Inquisitor entered her tent.

"What´s happened?"

"Your little plot has caused Sophia to take on an exile in her tent. She tells me that she´ll only come out of there the tent when we leave this city but she´s refusing to take part of any meetings where the wolves are present." Galatea leaned on her hand. "And she´s apparently given Emma a new title."

"And what´s this new title?"

"The Fool. Do I need to tell you why?"

"No, I understand. I just had conversation with Garius Lup and his forces are becoming ready to mobilize. I suggest you prepare for travel as well."

"What do you think we have been doing since you left? I´ve ordered everyone I have under my command to ready their gear for travel and the wolves are doing the same. Furthermore, where did you go of to?" Galatea made no effort to conceal her frustration.

"I hade some matters to take care of." Derik said, his voice assuming his usual calm. "Rest assured they have been settled and I am more than prepared to use my ship to aid in the transport of the troops to Mountbatten."

Galateas metal eye zoomed in to the Inquisitor. "Your ship will house the hostages. The Imperial guard don´t have enough transports ready to mobilize all of us. We will have to get to Mountbatten via ground transports."

"Wouldn´t it be better for the wolves to transport ahead and surround Mountbatten while we get there?"

"No." Galatea shook her head. "Mountbatten is the most armed fortress on this planet. Like I told Hjalmar, even the wolves won´t be able to conquer it. If they try and siege the castle we will arrive there to find and garden of dead wolves."

"I see. We could spread ourselves thin and risk getting picked of one by or we could move as one strong army."

"Yes." Galatea said. "If all goes well we should have be ready to move by dawn." She flipped through some papers, quickly reading the data and making notes of it before looking at the next one. "Provided nothing more happens."

"Is the Palatine of the Talons in her tent?" Derik asked.

"She should be." Galatea said.

"Good." Derik turned as he was about to leave the tent.

"Where are you going now?" Galatea stopped Derik before he could fully turn around.

"To her." Derik said with his plain voice. "I´m just going to make sure that her wound is healing before moving on to the Palatine of the Wings."

"Why have you taken such and interest in Emma?"

"She´s proven herself a capable commander and an exceptional warrior. I raised her to the rank of palatine. I am merely worried about her wellbeing and if the wound she suffered will inhibit her in the future."

"Just do what you need to do."

"I´ll do what I have to."

* * *

She was alone in the tent. Lightly dressed. Only her robes hanging of her shoulder, the ribbons tied sloppy around her waist. When Emma noticed Derik entering, she gave him a hard frown before turning to showing her back to him.

"Palatine of the Talons." Derik performed his usual bow.

"Inquisitor." Emma replied without turning. "What do you want?"

"I came to make sure that your wounds are healing."

"They are."

"I also wanted to discuss what happened between you and Sophia."

Emma grunted at his words. She looked to her side, and it was only now that Derik noticed Serena sitting on a chair next to her. She´d folded herself together, as if shielding herself from something.

"I would suggest you leave, Lady Blois." Derik said when he noticed her.

Emma turned to look her over her shoulder. "Why?"

"Because the matters I am about to bring up are not made for children´s ears." _Even if you´re no child and have already sold your own flesh._ The presence of Serena troubled Derik. He suspected the young girl to be smarter then she looked. _Making sure that you are on good terms with the winning side was probably no accident, was it?_

Emma nodded at Serena and she quickly left. "What is it that you want to discuss?" She asked once Serena was gone.

"It regards your old title. The Belated. You got that title for joining the order at fairly high age, did you not?"

"Yes."

"May I ask, what did you do before you joined the order?"

"I was a chambermaid at a chapel. It was only when I grew older and discovered more of the holy texts that I decided to join the Sisters of the Hawk."

 _You´re a bad liar. A terrible one in fact. Most are when they start. I´d say you can get better with practice but then I´d be lying myself. Not that would be the first time._ "Who was it that brought you before the sisters and allowed you to take the test of faith and purity?"

"Alfrestan." Emma said. "He was the preacher that arranged for me to take the tests."

 _At least you´re telling the truth about that._ Derik rubbed his stubbled chin. "Do you remember when I called you a slave to the truth because of your oath?"

"No."

"Well, I went to meet with Alfrestan and it seems for someone who has taken an oath to tell no lies, you´ve lied for quiet a long time. You´ve lied to me, to the wolves and to your sisters." Derik put on a confident smile. "You weren´t a chambermaid. I know that from him. You grow up in a hive with your mother."

Emma´s face paled before it folded with anger. "So?"

"That part as little relevance, what I´m curious about, and what should concern you, is why you decided to join the sisters to begin with."

Emma´s fist folded together and the muscles on her arm flexed."What is that you want?"

 _Thank the Emperor for that crutch._ Derik was certain if it wasn´t for Emma´s injuries, she would have attacked him. "You´re not as pure as you claim, are you?"

"Answer me." Emma growled. "Do get some kind filthy pleasure from this? You don´t do you? You think its funny."

 _Good way to cover your words._ Derik was certain she would have said something far filthier if she hadn't stopped herself. "There are a lot of things I find funny, but I assure you, this I don´t find funny."

"Why are you doing it then? What is that you want?"

"Answers and cooperation."

"And why should I give you either?"

"The first one might you probably won´t give me _._ " Derik said. "Though I have my suspicions about it."

"What kind of suspicions?"

"You don´t like men taking advantage of women. You hold the title the Belated because you did join the Sisters of the Hawk at an unusually high age. You disappeared from the cathedral where you usually prayed only to return several months later with sorrow painted across you face. You might see how these things paint a very strong picture."

"Why did you ask for answers?" Emma said with a curse on her lips. "You´ve already got them."

"I wanted conformation." Derik said. "And now you´ve given it to me. But now for the second item."

Emma went silent.

"I want you to go to Sophia and make amends with her."

"She hates me."

"We don´t peace with your friends, we make peace with our enemies. If we are going to end this war, we can´t be infighting."

"What am I supposed to do then? Go to her tent and tell her that I´m sorry for submitting an entire city with just one death?"

"If that´s what it takes. You have a mind fit for fighting, Emma." _And not much else._ "You may not have the affection of your sister palatine but you have the respect of the wolves."

"Something you only dream about." Emma said.

Derik narrowed his eyes. "You are brave, Emma. And you are merciful." _At times._ "But I don´t believe you are stupid."

"You´re a clever man, Derik. You know how to coat your words with honey, make them sweet and soft to whoever's listening. But I know the interests of men like you."

"Then you should know it's not a good idea to bring me to anger. I know your secret, Emma." Derik let his voice sharpen. "And you know what your sisters will do if it is uncovered."

Emma turned away from him. She stared to her side and as her eyes slowly closed. She drew a large breath, her chest visibly inflated before sinking.

"I can come with you, if you wish." Derik said.

"No." Emma slowly shacked her head. "Sophia doesn´t like either of us. It´ll drive her mad if we both come to her tent."

"A fair point." Derik said. There was some disappointment in admitting that it wasn´t going to be simple in bringing Sophia out of her tent, but at least he could be assured that Emma was on his side now. "Let me give you some advice." Derik said, letting his voice become soft. "Forget your secret and you won´t act like you have one."

"I can´t." Emma said.

"Try."

"Try?" Emma snapped her gaze to Derik, and he felt river of ice running down his spine.

Derik had seen Space Marines stare down at him, their awesome presence trying to force him to knell but he hadn´t. He´d stared back into the gen-enhance soldier´s eye and never looked away. He´d seen people so consumed by corruption that they were willing to tear their skin of with their hands while screaming out in pleasure before he put them out of their misery with a single bolt-round. He´d learned to steel his mind against such things. But now, when Emma, a Sister of the Hawk, an un-augmented human stared him in the eye, the Inquisitor flinched.

"Have you ever felt your dream," Emma said. "your ambition, being within your grasp? Have felt it growing inside of you? Have you felt the pain of it bringing it to life? Being ready to fell that pain being turned to love, only to have it warp into blood soaked, dead flesh in your arms? Have you felt that? Would you be able to forget that?"

 _She is lying. No, she´s not._ _I´d see right through it._ "I have felt sorrow." Derik confessed. "I have failed at multiple ambitions." He turned to look Emma in the eye. Her pupils where narrow little dots that pierced through Derik´s head. In the back of his skull, he felt an uncomfortable tingle. "But I have never felt anything like what you are describing."

"And you whish to use it." Emma´s eyes where blue. Blue like a clear sky, but behind them, Derik could feel a storm raging.

The air slowly pushed through Derik´s nose. It felt soft and cold. Night was approaching. "I´ll go and talk to Sophia."

"Will you?" Emma stopped him as he was about to leave the tent.

"Think what you will of me, Emma, but happened to be an accomplished diplomat. I´ll get her out of there."

"And what then?"

"Don´t forget this conversation and keep your secret to yourself." Derik said, and Emma scoffed. "Does someone else know?" He asked.

"No." Emma said.

 _Damn. And then there´s little Lady Blois to be dealt with._ "Just remember try to push the thoughts of your memories aside. We have a war to fight and far bigger battles to come. And the more that know of your secret, the more difficult it will be."

"It's more difficult because you know it."

Derik left without another word.

 _By the Throne itself._ Derik though as he walked through the camp. _Whoever it is that knows Emma´s secret is probably not going to it spill willingly. By the Emperor, I hope she´s a better liar than Emma._ He chewed lightly on his lip. _It must be someone who Emma has either known for a long time or someone who she trusts far more than anyone else for this sister to be trusted with a secret like that. Doubt its Galatea, or Hjalmar. Might be a sister who held a similar rank to her but that could be anyone of the Sisters of the Hawk. Either way, she´s a comparably small problem to Serena. The young girl is probably trying to rub up next Emma in order to have a good relation with the winning side, she might even be trying to secure a position of power by the end of the war. Could she be trying to overthrow or disregard her mother in order to secure wealth for herself? She is a noble after all, and nobles rarely settle for second wealthiest._

It didn´t take him long to reach the tent of the Palatine of the Wings. Her guards seemed to hesitant to let him through but stepped aside after a moment of hesitation.

"Palatine of the Wings." Derik said while taking a breath full of smoke.

"Inquisitor Derik Horst." Sophia answered from her altar.

 _How does she put up with this smoke?_ Derik thought as he held back a cough. "I was told that you gave the Palatine of the Talons a new title."

"A title that can be applicable to you as well."

"We are preparing to march on Mountbatten." Derik ignored her remark. "Have you prepared the sisters under your command for this?"

"I have not."

 _Stubborn this one, but compared to the Canoness, she might be able to work with us at least._ Derik paced around the altar Sophia was praying before until he was standing in front of her. "So you would call both me and Emma fools, yet you sit here in your tent while the rest of us prepare for war."

"I will not taint what little purity remains of the Hawk."

"No, you´ll just see it burned and maimed."

"If that is what it takes to purify it."

"So, you believe yourself the purest of your sisters?"

"I don´t believe. I am." Sophia´s voice hardened.

"The one who has to claim themselves to be the purest of the Emperor´s servants is no servant of Him." Derik let the words pass his lips slowly as he watched her reactions to them. And they're was a lot to watch.

Sophia expression quickly shifted from one of anger to one of spite before freezing into solid frustration. "And how do you know this?"

"If the Emperor answered every prayer that was done in his name everyone of us would have giant angelic wings and the Chaos Gods along with every xenos threat would be a faint memory. You´re sitting around in your tent praying in the Emperor´s name, while your sisters are ready to fight, bleed and die in His name. You may have called me a fool, but I would still say the Emperor might favor those who do the later."

She jerked upwards so fast that Derik would have jumped if he wasn´t expecting it. She was standing close enough to him that Derik could see the light reflecting from the wires coming in and out of her neck. She stayed absolutely still. "If you hadn't brought the wolves we would have died outside the fortress with honor."

"And the heresy would have consumed the planet." Derik took on a dull, blank stare. He knew that any sign of amusement or satisfaction would tip her over the edge.

Sophia grunted and turned away from Derik. She walked up to the flaps of the tent and stared out. "You´ll find me at the next meeting. But once this war is over, the Wings will not join you in your quest for Cadia. We will remain here. Guarding the planet and system that we call home."

It was not what Derik wanted but he had to accept it. _Sophia´s standing on an edge. All it will take at this point is just a light push and she will be beyond stopping._

"Prepare your sisters for march." Derik said as he met her at the flaps. "We´ll be departing soon."

He made quick journey back to Emma´s tent. Once he entered, she gave him the same hard scowl as before. Her soft and gentle features twisted and turned by anger.

"What do you want now?" Emma asked.

Derik took a breath. "I will send Serena Blois to the Capital."

"Why?"

Derik folded his arms across his chest and assumed a stern face. "I raised you to where you are now, Emma. And I can easily undo what I did."

Emma´s breath sank.

"I will have her escorted and put in a safe place with my friends in the capital." _Friend might be a better word. Or contact. He´s at the very least the person I can trust most in this war._

"Have it your way."

"Good. I will have a talk with her first. Alone. And when she comes crying to you…"

"I will say it´s all true."

"And send her right back to me."

Emma left the tent and the young Lady Blois entered. She was shivering and huddled herself together, trying to avoid meeting Derik´s gaze.

"You´ve been putting a good appearance." Derik said. "It´s enough to fool Emma, though I must say you´ve had some spectacular luck."

"What do you mean, Inquisitor?" Serena said.

"Stop acting like you think you can fool me." Derik coated the edge of his voice with anger. "I know you´re just trying to rub up against Emma because you want to have good standing with the winning side. Though I must say, you could have picked better."

"Very well, Inquisitor." Serena looked at Derik with the same venomous green eyes as her mother. "What do you want?"

"I am going to send you to the Capital, you are going to be introduced to General Corvey Ironfield."

"And what do I do when I meet him?"

 _Clever this one. Her mother could learn a thing or two from her._ "You will relay messages that he will send to me. They will be encrypted so don´t even bother trying to spill their contents."

"As you wish, Inquisitor." Serena bowed a courteous, elegant and rehearsed manner.

"But if you don´t send any messages, I will have little mercy for you, or your family."

"I´d except you to." Serena smiled.


	51. Chapter 48

The black rose chapter 48

It had been a solid two weeks of march. An army made up of the Planetary Defense Forces lead by Lieutenant Garius Lup, the Space Wolves lead by Hjalmar Hargen, and the Sisters of the Hawk lead by Galatea, Anna, Sophia and Emma. Whether due to intervention of the Emperor or the hostages held at the Inquisitorial ship, the road had been traveled without even the signs of an attack. Something the Space Wolves were quick to exploit. Every time they stopped the wolves insisted on drinking, eating and singing. They made a game of smashing tankards and flagons on their heads, trying to see which one of them could manage to most before he started to bleed. Some of the soldiers from the Imperial Guard joined them, and the wolves were quick to share in their food and mead. Of the Sisters of the Hawk, Emma was the only one who regularly partook in the feasts. Her sisters would try the food and drink some of their mead before making their excuses and leave. Galatea would on occasion sit next to Hjalmar. She only took a single plate of food and a few shallow chugs of mead before joining Hjalmar for long discussions. Emma didn´t pay them much mind. She just swallowed tankard on tankard full of mead until her stomach rebelled, at which point she would ask for another. The first time she did it, Hjalmar laughed. He asked if she was trying to compete with him as she finished his tenth tankard filled with undiluted mead.

"Just give me another." Emma had replied.

Hjalmar gave her the tankard but when he saw her chugging it down like a drained man would chug down water, he took it of her.

"A mind is like a battle-axe, Emma." The old wolf said. "Never let it grow dull."

Emma sank silently into her chair. _I was ready to let them burn the city._ Emma told herself. _I was._ She echoed the sentiment to herself as she stared searchingly across the feasting wolves and soldiers. Her eyes searched in vanity, because she knew what they searched for was not there. _My son. Wherever you are, do not worry. It may be dark and cold, but your mother is always thinking of you. I will be with you, some day. Until then, the Emperor will watch over you. He will protect you from the horrors that dwell in the Warp._

After that, Emma only drank one tankard before pushing it aside. Even if her fingers started itching and her mind ticked with annoyance.

Thanks to the smooth traveling and the healing of the Hospitaler (with some effort to be held to the healing craft of the wolves), both Emma and Galatea recovered from their wounds. Though Emma was warned to be careful, the blade had scrapped closed to her kidney and left a tear in her muscles that would never truly heal unless she implemented bionics, something they did not have to spare for such relatively minor wounds.

Every night, Emma felt an itch in her side. Like an insect was running beneath her wound. She constantly had to resists the urge to scratch it. Though compared to the that, Emma knew that there where far greater things to concern about.

"So, we´re finally here." Hjalmar said as he stood on top of the hill with Emma at his side.

"The final fight of this war." Emma said, her hand resting on the pommel of the sword Johana gave her.

"You know, this fortress being as difficult to breach as they say, think it can make for a more memorable battle then last time?"

"I don´t know. Either way it will be the last for some time."

"Aye." Hjalmar agreed. "But it´ll be a fight worthy of the tales either way."

* * *

Mountbatten stood on the peak of outward reaching cliff, its mechanicus growths reaching in and out of the ground like roots made of metal. Even from where they where watching, a solid kilometer away, one could see the sheen of silver and steel from the cannon barrels. Below the cliff, after a hundred-meter droop, was the Black Water. Though the oil that had given it its name had long since faded away into the surrounding ocean, the waves still breached on the shore with a roaring fury. The side of the Mountbatten facing the ocean idle and calm, but no one was so gullible to believe that it would be best side to attack. When the Heretical Astartes had assaulted Mountbatten, they thought the exact same, and where utterly annihilated because of it.

But if the ocean side of Mountbatten was an impossible assault, the land side was incredibly impractical. Sitting at the tip end of a sharp-pointed cliff, there was only one possible entrance into the fortress and it would be trapped with mines, guarded by turrets and watched by the thing they all feared. Imperial Knights. Though calling them that seemed curios to Emma. She recalled what the traitor legions where otherwise called. _Heretical Imperial Knight does sound strange. Heretical Knight might just be better._

The forces had gathered behind both Emma and Hjalmar, outside of the range of potential mortars but close enough to see any escaping aircraft. The first guard was made up of Leman Russ Tanks, something Hjalmar never seemed to stop finding amusing. Behind them where Basilisk Tanks, ready to catch anything that took to the air. The infantry, which included Imperial guard, Sisters of the Hawk and Space Wolves were all gathered behind the two rows of tanks.

"Strange." Hjalmar said.

"What is?" Emma asked.

"I´d expect them perhaps boast about their defenses, placing a Knight or two out for us to try and scare us. Think they´re trying to escape?"

"This is not a fortress you escape from." Galatea´s voice came from behind them. She walked quicker than before, thanks to her arm finally healing. "This is a fortress you escape to." She said when she´d gotten up to next to Emma. "If they run away from here, there will nowhere for them to run."

Hjalmar scoffed. "If these heretics are anything like Inquisitors they´ve got five escape plans to try and outwit us."

"If heretics where anything like inquisitors we would be worshipping the Dark Gods at this point." Emma said.

"Hur." Hjalmar snorted. "Not that inquisitor. The kind that would see an entire planet burn along with everyone there because he found a single sign of heresy. The kind that hides the moment you confront him with the consequences of his actions."

"Either way," Galatea said. "Once we raise Mountbatten to the ground, they will have to be fools to try and rise against us again."

"Isn´t that what makes them heretics?" Hjalmar asked with a grin.

"Let´s get started." Emma said.

"Aye." Hjalmar agreed.

They gathered in the tent the wolves would otherwise use for their feasts. It was the only one large enough to house the Palatines of the Hawk, the Brother-Captain of the wolves, the commander of the Imperial Guard and the Inquisitor.

"If they wanted to run…" Garius Lup paced around the holo-projection of the fortress. "They should have done so a long time ago."

"What defenses are we looking at?" Derik asked.

"The walls themselves are downright impenetrable." Garius turned the flickering holo-projection. "They were built during the Long Night, made to withstand explosions that would tear a hive to the ground. But they are not insurmountable." He threw a glance at Sophia, who soured her expression.

"What about mines?" Galatea asked.

"I´ll have scout squads come the field during night." Garius replied. "If there are any mines planted in that field, I´ll have them disarmed."

"That only leaves watch towers, troops and the Traitor Knights." Derik said with weary tone.

"They´ll make for a good fight." Hjalmar grinned.

"They´ll make for our doom if we´re not careful. Besides the knights what else can we except?"

Garius took a slow breath and shrugged lightly. "Had you asked me a year ago, I´d say at least four knights, three regiments worth of troops along with a barrage of artillery and enough fire power to turn the ocean black a second time. Now, I can only say at most three knights with any certainty."

"In that case we assume four knights," Sophia said. "Along with everything else you assumed would be there."

The tent went silent for a moment before Hjalmar raised his voice. "My brothers aren´t drinking tonight."

 _Neither am I._ Emma studied the holo-projection. "How do we assault the gate?" She asked without looking at the Colonel.

"My intention is to have the men lay down a field of suppressive fire upon outer walls before we charge the gate." Garius answered.

"Using what?"

"The firepower my own troops and whatever the wolves can bring."

"Hmph." Hjalmar made grunt as if he had been insulted. "I don´t like using bolters. Makes it hard to tell if the thing I shoot died."

"But your brothers have them?"

"´Course we do."

"And how do we destroy the gate?" Emma asked. "Should I direct the Basilisks to fire at the gate with smoke markers like last time?"

"The Basilisks won´t be enough this time." Garius said. "We have to use the Hellhammer Baneblade."

Hjalmar snorted in amusement.

"What is it that I don´t know about that you find so funny?" Garius asked.

"Emma took a Baneblade down with broken blade." His snort grew into a chuckle.

"Is that true?" Garius asked with disbelieve.

"Half true." Emma admitted. "I did use a broken sword, but it was only to jam into the gears, so Galatea could drop mortar shells on it."

"Hm." Garius looked at Emma before he looked over at the old wolf. "I don´t know how many shoots it will take for the gate to be battered down, but the Baneblade will need an escort."

"In case of what?" Emma asked.

"In case the Knights enter the field."

* * *

That night, Emma was back at the hill. She sat on the ground with her legs folded up to her chest.

"It´s quiet, ain´t it." Hjalmar said as he walked up the hill.

"It is." Emma shifted slightly.

"Enough to make you concerned?"

"A bit." Emma looked up at wolf. Sitting down, he seemed almost twice as tall to Emma. _Is this what it was like to stand in the presence of a primarch?_ Emma put on a short-lived smile. _It'd be easier to smile if Johana was here. Wouldn´t it?_

"Try and enjoy it." Hjalmar sat down with a crash. The sudden sound of it made Emma jump a little, something that had no chance of escaping Hjalmar´s keen senses. He laughed a little at it. "When we´re out there, this will probably seem like paradise."

"You say that," Emma voice took a solemn tone. "But sometimes it feels better to be out there in the field of battle."

"How come?"

"It feels simpler. Everything feels simpler."

"It´s true." Hjalmar said. "I feel it too. If feel it every time I step out there. Every time I hear the roars of my brothers and the barks of bolters."

"It's a fragile feeling." Emma looked up at Hjalmar. "All it takes is one look from someone, or a scream. And it cracks like ice, and then you fall into the water."

Hjalmar opened his mouth like was about to protest but slowly shut it. He took a few moments to answer. "Sometimes. When tempered by the fire of war, it's harder than steel."

"I´ve never experienced something like that." Emma stared forward with empty eyes.

"Say, you know the saying that a good commander follows commands without question?"

"And a good commander gives orders without doubt."

"Aye. It´s one of the biggest loads of shite I´ve ever heard."

Emma´s brows jumped upwards. "What do you mean?"

"You can never be sure of the length of your swing, or the strength of your strike. These will always be in your mind. They always cause you to doubt."

"Speaking from experience?"

Hjalmar looked at Emma with his grey eyes. Though they were large by virtue of Hjalmar being large, they narrowed into sharp slits. "More than you can ever imagine." He looked over his shoulder, to the camp behind them. "Every single one of my brothers on this planet… I´ve raised them like a father would raise his sons since they were old enough to stand. Over the centuries I don´t know how many its amounted to. My brothers that are here… well most of them are of a younger generation. Tor especially. I must have taught hundreds of them. Maybe even a thousand. Whether they be dead or lost, I still remember every single one of their faces."

 _I was going to be a parent once._ Emma wanted to say. _Not of a thousand sons. Not of hundreds. Just a single one._ She felt the words just behind her lips.

"Every time it´s their turn to drink from the Cup of the Wolfen," Hjalmar continued. "I feel a terror that can´t even be matched by even the greatest daemons or beasts."

"What happens when they drink?"

"If they are true in their intent and pure in their faith, they finish the final step in becoming Vlka Fenryka. Otherwise… they mutate and twist in agony. They become flesh hungry monsters of feral, berserk rage. They become Wulfen. When it's one of my initiates turn to drink, I feel doubt. I think about every lesson, every day of training, and wonder what I could have done different. It doesn´t even stop there. There is another saying, one with much less shite in it, treat your soldiers like they were your own children and they will follow you to hell and back. I treat, and think, of my brothers as my sons, and I never doubt their loyalty."

 _You just doubt your ability. And theirs._ Emma thought of her own sisters, of Serena, and of Johana. "I understand."

"Do you?"

Emma smiled warmly. She reached up and put a hand on Hjalmar´s gauntlet. "Better than you can ever imagine." _And more than I can tell you._


	52. Chapter 49

The black rose chapter 49

The servitor´s engines hummed as it applied her armor. It was dull thing, eyes hidden behind a slab of metal and no mouth remaning. All it knew was how to put on and remove the armor of the Adepta Sororita.

"go." Johana said before it tightened the final joints. There seemed to be some hesitation from the machine-slave, but it left just before Johana turned to look at it.

 _Today is the day. It is the final day._ Johana thought as she held her helmet in her armor-clad hands. There was a dent above one of the eye lenses. A small one that had slipped her mind until now. _It´s from back then. It must be._

She pushed the helmet down over her head and runes came to life like embers in a fire. The gears between her head and neck made a sucking sound as the helmet sank into its joints. A rune confirmed that the armor´s seal was complete. Her hand sank down on the sword. _Emma´s sword._ She looked at the pommel as she gently brushed her thumb against it. _My second oath. My second burden. My…_

Her mind went quiet. The images retreated, if only for a moment as if they were pinned under the weight of Johana´s memories. They quickly wormed their way out, and once they were free they were starving to torment her. Even as Johana heard the screams and felt the blood on her skin, she didn´t react. She felt the pain in her mind. She felt the stabbing pulses jerking through her body. It felt as if her brain was freezing from the inside out, and the rest of her body tried desperately to shiver, just so some heat could reach up to her head. But she didn´t. She stared forward with a stare that searched for a horizon in an endless void.

 _The ash is gone. Blown away in by a soft wind. Only a hollow husk remains._

Johana put her leg up before her. She reached for her knee and pulled at the gears. A rune flashed. It warned Johana that the seal was broken. She blinked it away and did the same for her other legs but now she reached up to her thigh as well. When she put both her legs down, the plating on both her legs hanged loose.

 _Today is the day. The day that it ends._

* * *

" _COME!_ " Hjalmar roared. " _GIVE THE HERETICS A REASON TO FEAR US!_ "

 _If I can hear you from back there, then they should already have a reason to._ Emma thought as she waited for the Baneblade to advance. With the fire power of both her sisters of the Tail and the Space Wolves, the Talons made a slow advance under the cover of the sheet of fire and the shield of Leman Russ Battle Tanks. This was a tactic that had been constructed by the night before. Hjalmar was as always eager to lead the charge, but both the Inquisitor and the General disputed him.

"On the battlefield, there are no equals, and some have to be valued more than others." "Derik said, in his usual soft-spoken manner.

"Though I don´t like to admit it, my soldiers are far more numerous and far more expendable than your brothers." Garius said.

"In that case my sister will lead the charge with your soldiers." Emma butted in. "When the heretics start assaulting us, we will make sure their attack doesn´t land on a soft front."

Derik and Garius quietly agreed. Hjalmar looked at the Inquisitor and laughed.

Though as they now advanced, Emma was starting to second-guess this tactic, as she did with many things of late.

 _Isn´t that what a good commander does?_ Emma recalled her conversation with Hjalmar. _Doubts their abilities and wonders what could have been?_

"Sergeant Vargo." Emma vox-reached the commander of the tank in front of her.

" _Sister of the Hawk."_

"What´s the status on the walls turrets?"

" _They´re spitting madly forward._ "

Emma felt her fingers shift around the handle of her blade. "How far of is the Baneblade?"

" _Four hundred meters._ " Vargo replied with some static. " _We´ll need to half that if the Hellhammer cannon´s going to smash down the gate._ "

"Copy that." Emma closed the vox.

 _What are they doing?_ Emma thought while a hail of turret fire rained down on the tank in front of them. She picked up her pace and put her right hand on the tank. _Could they-_

Her thoughts where cut off by a shoot that punched through the tanks armor and exploded next to her hand. Emma jerked her hand back as the tank came to a sudden halt. The runes in her display show no signs of breach or break. The armor told Emma that her hand was unhurt, but her senses seemed sure that it was blown off.

Her sisters rushed up to pull their palatine to her feet. Leaning against the tank, Emma clenched her teeth as the hand throbbed.

"Sergeant Vargo." Emma opened the vox. "Status."

" _The right side have taken some damage. Don´t know what hit us but it smashed the damned treads right of their gears._ "

"Abandon the tank!" Emma punched the rear of the tank with her fist. "You´re sitting ducks in there!"

" _Copy that._ "

Emma looked quickly to the tanks flanks. "Russ Tank Five, Rhino Two. Move to guard Russ Tank Four while the crew evacuates."

" _This sergeant Baldwin,_ " The commander of Russ Five came through the vox. " _We cannot risk moving out of formation with the Baneblade._ "

Emma cursed as she struggled the urge to climb on top of the tank and start pulling the guardsmen out of the tank herself.

" _Emma._ " Galatea´s voice came through the vox. " _Rhino Two will not be able to acts as guard while the crew evacuates. We can only head up to provide you cover for you._ "

Emma flexed her hand and felt like she was squeezing a thorny ball. "Move into position for us."

" _The Rhino´s coming._ "

"Get ready to move when the Rhino gets into position." Emma commanded her sisters. "Until then keep your heads down." She didn´t wait to hear her sister's response. "You´re going to have to manage on your own, sergeant Vargo."

There was no response.

"Vargo!" Emma felt her vice echo something familiar and unpleasant.

"I heard you!" His voice came from above. He was on climbing out of the tank, rising out of the hatch like a sprouting flower.

Emma only had time to look up and notice him before his chest exploded in a splash of shattered bones and smoking blood. He jerked as if he was being shook by and invisible hand before sinking down on the tank with crimson oozing from his wounds.

Cold fingers wrapped around Emma´s heart. She reached up the tanks edge.

"Palatine!" One of her sisters put a hand on Emma´s shoulder. She pointed to the left of the tank. "The Rhino´s almost here."

Emma tore her hand free from the edge. "Prepare to move."

As they waited few intense moments Emma looked back up at the tank. _Emperor bless you for your service._

"Go!"

They ran a short distance to the Rhino and gathered up behind the Sororita Tank as another burst of bullets splashed into the ground. A missile dived of the wall and crashed before the Rhino with an explosion that reached three times the tanks height.

Emma felt a spray of dirt and rocks clang against her armor. She threw a quick glance behind her to make sure that all her sisters were accounted for. "Rhino Two, move!"

Without a reply, the treads started spinning and the Rhino rolled its way forward with the sisters following its rear.

 _Six sisters behind it._ Emma counted herself. _And fifteen inside not counting the driver. The ones inside are of the Tail. They could be reserves for the Wings or the Talons._ Emma glanced up at the wall. _Won´t make much of a difference. The Wings will never be able to reach the top of the wall with their jump packs alone._

The ground flanking the sisters started being turned over by bullets missiles throwing chunks of the ground into the air.

 _Why are they starting to fire those now?_ The missiles may have had a short range to them but any soldier with a descent aim should have been able to aim for a tank heading towards the fortress, let alone an entire formation.

A part of Emma wanted to think their supply of ammo was low and wanted to spare it until they were sure of their shoots, but that idea didn´t sit right in her mind.

"What´s the Baneblade´s position?" Emma voxed.

" _Three hundred meters from the gate._ " Galatea´s voice answered.

"Make it two hundred, quick."

" _We´ll pick up the pace._ "

"Hurry it up!" Emma shouted to her sisters.

The walk they had behind the Rhino turned into a sprint. The other tanks followed with the Baneblade acting as the front and center of the formation. Its flanks guarded by two Exorcist tanks, the most potent artillery unit of the Adepta Sororita, it could unleash barrages of armor-shredding missiles from its organ shaped barrels. Beyond the Exorcists came the Rhinos and after them the Leman Russ Tanks. They made for a formidable force as they charged across the planes, leaving trails of dusty smoke behind their tracks. Something that made for a good hiding for the sisters and Imperial guard behind them.

The Rhino´s treads lost their blur and the tank slowed its pace. This was followed by a thundering groan of metal and whirr of machines.

With her sight blurred by the dust, Emma had a difficult time to see past the Rhino and was in no hurry to stick her head out again. "What´s going on?" She voxed. "Why have we slowed down?" The moment she finished the tank came to complete stop.

" _Fall into position!"_ Galatea voice commanded every tank in a shout. " _Take aim and fire when you have clear sights!_ "

The Rhino turned so quickly that Emma and her sisters where left exposed to the Mountbatten´s turrets for a few short moments. It wasn´t enough to kill any of her sisters, but it was enough for Emma to see what was causing the tanks to shift so suddenly.

And then she experienced it.

The three tanks to the left of the Rhino where spat on by the sweeping arch of an autocannon. The gun shrieked with hatred as the shells cut through the tanks armor and churned the innards of them into battered metal. When the trail of shells reached the Rhino, Emma ducked out of the way. She heard the autocannon punch through the Rhino´s armor and felt the strike of the shells it the other side of the Rhino´s armor through her back. It was over a breath later and the Knight slowed its cannon down, the tip of barrels shimmering by the orange glowing metal. The Traitor Knight prepared to enter a sprint to charge forward when the assault was interrupted by rain of missiles from the Exorcist. The explosions of the warheads were enough to cover the Knight from head to knee in black smoke.

This was not an opportunity Emma was going to miss. With two of her sisters she ran for the rear of the Rhino and forced the back hatch open by prying their swords in between the plates.

The inside was a slaughter. Sisters where leaking blood from still smoking wounds in their armor. The machine-spirit had been gutted. The only light that could paint the macabre scene were the beams that peaked in through the holes in the Rhino´s hull.

There was no chance or time to hesitate. Emma sent one of her sisters up to the driver´s seat and commanded the other one to release any sister that showed signs of life from their harnesses and pull them out. They searched frantically, knowing that the Knight could take another shot at any moment, and that the armor between them and its cannon was little more than paper to its shells.

"Driver´s dead." The sister said from the front. "Emperor bless her soul." She prayed as she came back. She joined her palatine in searching the rest of the sisters.

Emma jerked the sisters in their straps. She gave them quick shakes before moving on to the next one. None of them gave any response. Emma´s hand tensed and her fingers stung. "Move out!" She jerked a heavy bolter from its maglock. _Of all the things inside this Rhino,_ Emma pulled the backpack loose and tossed it over her shoulders. _This was the only thing that was spared._ She ran out with her sisters.

Outside the Rhino, she saw the Knight stepping out of its blanket of smoke, its multi-barreled cannon blurred by the speed of its rotation. The weapon started screaming accompanied by the flashes white explosions. The cannon took a firm aim for the Exorcist.

Refusing the back down, the Exorcist responded to Knight by releasing another burst of missiles from its flutes. Like before the missiles were absorbed by the Knight´s void shield. Like rocks splashing on water, their impacts merely produced harmless waves across the arcane webbing. And also, like before the explosions covered the Knight in thick, black smoke.

The Knight charged forward, stepping out of the smoke with the barrel spinning at a blur along with the teeth of its tank-length chainsword.

It was then, the moment the Knight stepped out of the smoke, that the Baneblade fired it Hellhammer cannon. A shell the size and length of a grown man was spat out of the barrel and punched into the ankle of the Knights leggings. The blast was enough to overwhelm the void shield and bend the plating out of shape. For a breath, Emma dared hope that the Knight would fall. But the warrior-machine was barely staggered. The shot had only scrapped along the Knight´s armor. The dent was the worst it suffered. The barrels flashed to life again, and the shells tore through the Exorcists armor. Hammering down, the autocannon mangled the tank into a battered corpse. But the Knight didn´t stop. It charged forward, the chainsword whirring with pink flames licking the teeth as it skewered the Exorcist´s corpse and hauled it up into the air. The Knight´s joints groaned as the tank was lifted of the ground. Roaring a mechanical roar in triumph, the Knight tossed the Exorcist aside like a piece of unwanted meat.

"Galatea." Emma voxed, hoping that she wasn´t inside that tank.

" _Receiving._ "

Emma released a puff of air.

" _Status on Rhino Two?_ " Galatea said before Emma could say anything.

"Destroyed."

" _Curse these heretics._ " The second Exorcist shoot another salvo of missiles as it turned to avoid another sweep of the Knight´s autocannon.

 _Summon the wolves._ Emma wanted to say but the words stopped at her lips. _They´ll be massacred by turret fire if they try to move up. Unless…_

"Leman Russ Tank Five, Six and Three." Emma voxed, and before they could answer she gave them orders. "Fall back and act as escorts for the Space Wolves. Now!"

" _Orders received and understood."_

The tanks made quick turns and broke out of their formation. Emma wanted to vox-reach Hjalmar and the reserves but without a beacon, it was impossible.

The Baneblade´s treads turned so quick that it almost dug itself into the ground. The Hellhammer cannon fired, and the shell rammed into the Knight´s ankle. The Knight tried to awkwardly to keep itself upright as the void-shield recharged. The autocannon turned, and when the Baneblade turned its treads to move away it only found itself sinking into the muddy ground.

* * *

The nausea almost made her wretch. The Rhino had turned so suddenly and quickly that Johana felt her head swirl. The driver said something about brazing for impact or get ready to deploy. She didn´t listen.

Moments later,a clang rang through the Rhino as the tank came to a jerking stop. Something large groaned.

"Get out of the Rhino!" The driver shouted, and all her sister started to release their harnesses.

Whether motived by whatever duty she had left or forced by old reflexes, Johana followed with her sisters and punched the central point of the harness on her chest. But once she was free, she paused. And was thrown to the ground by the driver putting herself on top of Johana.

The roof came running down. Johana´s sisters disappeared, replaced with crumbles of crushed armor. The tank echoed with a sharp ting that stabbed into her ears. It took a long while before it went silent. She tried to move but was pinned in place by the driver on top of her. She turned her head and saw the roof in the corner of her eye. Barely more than ten centimeters away from her. Squirming her arm free, Johana touched the driver and realized she was dead. Her helmet had caved in and cracked her skull open.

 _She saved me._ Johana´s breath quickened. _She saved a hollow, tainted…_ She winced and wheezed. Her fingers started scrambling, clawing as they tried to pull her free. They pulled and scraped until the paint of floor was peeled away and the blood seeping from her crushed sisters started making her fingers slippery. Her helm´s cogitator filtered and enhanced what little light was there with what little power it had left, but the darkness was quickly overwhelming. Her breaths felt icy and the air stung as it traveled down her throat. Tears started building behind her eyes. They burned like acid as she realized her fate. She was entombed in this Rhino, and she was going to spend the rest of her life in it.

 _It wasn´t… It wasn´t…_ The images returned. It was torture, it was a viscous butchering, and it was a feast.

Amidst the images´ feast, a tingling started spreading from her thighs. Unlike the images, it wasn´t painful. It was soothing, soft and sedating, and embracing it was the only thing that seemed to halter the feast as she started hammering her fists into the blood covered floor.

* * *

"By the Emperor." Emma gasped.

The gate stood wide open and screaming fanatics ran out of it. They howled at the top of their lungs as blood dripped from shallow cuts on their arms. They spilled from the gate like a water from a breaking dam. Hundreds upon hundreds of men and women. Their attack seemed senseless, mad even. Their armor was crumbled, and growths spurted from their skin. Sometimes it was only an extra finger or miss colored skin, but others had fully grown limbs or had their natural limbs swollen to yellow bloats, ready to burst with the puss stored within. The sight made Emma´s skin prickle, but it was not the reason for her terror.

Towering far above the horde, it marched on flat, four footed legs. Disregarding those that ran beneath, the Knight crushed anyone that was caught in its shadow. Blood and guts dripped from the machine-warrior´s feet when it rose them. Like it´s brethren it was armed with multi-barreled autocannon on its right arm, but the left was something different. Rather than a chainsword, this Knight was armed with gathering of squirming, pink, worm shaped like limbs. The wet hide covering these tentacles did not have the sheen of metal. Rather it looked soft, organic almost. From its enormous vox-grill, the Knight released a war cry as its twin charged out of the gate with a speed that blurred its titanic shape.

Behind her helmet, Emma stared at the two traitor Knights with a loose jaw and wide eyes.

"Palatine!"

She blinked and saw what caused the yell. The tide of was coming. Crying and bleeding. "Ready bolters!" Emma commanded as she shifted the heavy bolter she took from the Rhino and opened fire. The first shoots kicked harder than Emma had anticipated, and the bolters flew above her target´s heads. But she quickly adjusted, and the bolters started pounding into their soft flesh. Emma had trained with every piece of wargear of that the Sisters of the Hawk used, but she showed great talent for the blade early in her training. She was select for the Talons early and learned the art of the blade. She knew there was as much skill and subtlety to the heavy bolter as there was the sword. But when faced with an enemy charging towards in a great clog, not much of neither was needed.

Limbs and bodies exploded in blasts of discolored gore. The blood spraying and splattering from the wounds was black and red. On occasion, Emma could swear she saw beads of blood being wrapped in flames before hitting the ground with smoking hisses. Joined by her sisters, they formed a thin line of fire that tore into the tide of flesh.

But they were just a rock in the path of a wave of zealotry. They may be breaking the front of it, but there was no chance of them breaking the wave. They were about to become surrounded when a lance of fire cut through the fanatics. The fire didn´t kill them immediately, and Emma could hear their screams as the flames eat through their flesh. They were screams of pain… and otherworldly pleasure.

This fuse of these emotions became a chorus that made Emma´s stomach churn as if a snake was writhing itself beneath her muscles. She could feel it biting inside her gut.

"Hold your ground!" Emma shouted as her elbows started aching with the kick of the heavy bolter.

The Leman Russ Tank that wielded a head-mounted flamethrower swept the stream of flames in a wide arch. Painting the flesh of the House Mountbatten´s heretics in smoking black. As it was joined by the five of its brother tanks, all of them armed turrets and flamers, the tide of flesh was slowed but not stopped.

They were getting closer. They climbed over the corpses of their fallen comrades without a second thought. Their eagerness and disregard for their own lives, it was something Emma only seen once before but for different reasons.

 _They´re not guarding._ Smoke started rising from bolter´s barrel. _They want this. They want pain. They live- no, die for it._

"FOR RUSS AND THE ALLFATHER!" Giants in sky grey armor roared as they smashed into the hoard. As befitting their name, they attacked in a pack, crashing into the fanatics with a force that sent people flying through the air with shattered bones and torn limbs.

The fanatics sought deaths of pain and suffering, but the wolves only saw fit to deliver quick deaths brought on by their swords and bolters. With one swing of his chainsword, Tor cleaved three men in half. With another, he killed five as his boltpistol fired. Along with his brothers, the wolves cut through the ocean of fanatics.

"LOOK OUT!" Emma screamed as the ground started popping with explosions. From a distance, one might mistake them for the bullets from a simple autogun, but Emma knew exactly where they originated from. She dropped the heavy bolter and threw herself on top of two sisters at once. She didn´t have time to see what happened to the wolves or the tanks. She only had time to see the ground rushing up to slam into her forehead. She heard the wet splashes of bullets tearing through flesh. She heard the cry of metal as armor was being pounded. There was a silence, it lasted only a breath, and the roars returned. Emma turned over to her back, getting of both the sisters she had pinned to the ground. She saw Tor standing in a field of smoke and blood. His right arm was missing, along with all but two of his brothers. Their sky grey armor splashed by crimson. Emma looked beyond them and saw the smoking wreckages of the Leman Russ Tanks. Then another wave came approaching while the twin Knights tore into Rhinos and Leman Russ Tanks with their guns and limbs.

"Move!" Emma commanded. When only two of her own sisters, sister Aline and sister Cynthia, rose with her, ice ran down her spine.

Tor roared. An animalistic, furious roar. He let the boltpistol slip from his fingers, leaving it hanging to his gauntlet by a chain, as he lifted his battered chainsword from his torn hand and put the bloody handle between his teeth. The weapon was dented and bent but the teeth still had a sharp edge to them.

"Tor." Emma said, and the wolf turned to her. "Don´t charge ahead." She readied her weapon.

Tor growled as slaver spilled from his lips. For a moment it looked like the wolf was going to ignore what she said and run ahead.

Emma was about to raise her voice in protest when Tor flicked his wrist and grabbed his boltpistol. Growling again, this time nodding as Emma saw the corners of his lips rise, Tor raised his left arm and released a muffled roar as the weapon started barking.

It was quickly joined by his brothers´ bolters, and the sisters´.

Together, they stood firm as another wave of flesh came towards them.

The ones at the front died first. They fell screaming to the ground as the ones behind them trampled over them, if they weren´t already dead it was secured by hundreds of trampling footsteps. It didn´t slow them. Nothing seemed to, and Emma wondered if they ever would. Was there a force that could make them stop, hesitate and see what they were doing?

 _Auuuuuuuuuoooooooooo!_

The sound of the howl shot a wave through Emma. A wave of warmth that was stripped from her body by the kick of her bolter.

Hjalmar charged past Emma and her sisters as two packs worth of his brothers followed him. Emma only had time to blink and Tor joined his brother-captain.

There was no chance for the fanatics to withstand the wolves. And did not seem to want to. As Hjalmar tore one who had been climbing onto his back in half with his bare hands, they seemed to gather around the wolves, eager to meet their ends at the hands of the Space Wolves.

"Hjalmar, don´t stand still." Emma vox-reached to make sure he could hear her. "You´ll be picked off by the Knights if they notice you."

"Understood." Hjalmar slammed some of the fanatics away with his shield and raised his axe. "With me, brother! Led these bastards away from the sisters and stay out of the Knights bleeding cannon!" They assumed a formation and plowed through the fanatics, leaving a trail of steaming gore in their path.

"Follow me!" Emma led her sisters away from the fanatics. Towards the Knights. "Galatea." Emma made quick, sudden prayer.

Statics was the only response.

Emma searched for the Exorcist has she ran. She could spot the carcasses of Rhinos and Leman Russes but not anything the resembled an Exorcist or a Baneblade, though with the pillars of smoke rising out of the destroyed tanks, she could only tell the tanks apart by the shape of the hulls that remained.

The Knights were simple to spot. Imposing figures, they released sweep after sweep from their autocannons. And then came the sign that Emma wanted. One of them were bombarded by a salvo of roaring missiles.

" _Take cover!_ " Galatea´s voice shouted over the vox.

Emma took both her sisters and hid behind the wreckage of the fallen Knight. As they slid down next to it, the machine-warrior squirmed like a turtle flipped on top of its shell. It was still alive, but unable to do anything but reach upwards in defiance.

Its brother Knight put an end to it. With a careless sweep of its autocannon, the blurred-white bullets cut through the broken void-shield and destroyed its mechanical innards. With a grunt, the fallen Knight died as it bled jet-black oil.

As the Knight´s machine spirit faded, Emma heard a faint pounding. It was irregular, like a fist smashing into a metal sheet. Muffled by the layers of metal, the pounding died the moment Cynthia opened fire.

"Save the ammunition." Emma stopped her sister. "It won´t do anything against the Knight´s shields."

"Then what do we do?" Cynthia's answer was harsh and irritated. Something that in the past would have provoked a harsh punishment.

Emma leaned against the fallen Knight. Her cheeks burned as if embers were glowing underneath her skin. When she closed her eyes, she could hear the pounding again. _There´s someone trapped underneath the wreckage._ The embers died and were replaced with steaming ice. She thought about how far down this person must be, and how much they must be struggling for her to hear the sound.

"Use the plasma grenades." Emma said.

Her sisters stared silently at her.

"If we can get a plasma grenade into the joints of the Knights, the heat of the plasma should be able to eat through the armor and melt the gears within."

"How many grenades do we have?" Cynthia asked.

"Three." Aline answered.

 _We need more._ Emma vox-reached Galatea. "We need reinforcements."

" _And I have no Rhinos or tanks to spare._ "

"Understood." Emma closed the vox.

"Well?" Cynthia asked.

Emma shock her head. "They cannot break of to bring in any reserves. And Hjalmar´s leading of the tide of mad heretics."

Cynthia went silent.

"This will be our day of judgment." Aline said. "This will be the day we finalize our duty to the God-Emperor of Mankind."

"Well have to get in close." Emma peeked over the wreckage to spot the Knights. Through her hand, she could still feel a slight tremble in the Rhino hull. She pushed it aside and looked at the Knights. Engaged in an awkward, balletic duel between the Baneblade, the Exorcist and Rhinos and Leman Russ Tanks that remained the two Knights danced with their autocannon's firing and their tendril like whips cracking as the tanks maneuvered around them.

"Remember," Emma turned back to her sisters as she dropped the heavy bolter. "you only have one life to serve the Emperor, make sure you do not waste it on a foolish death."

Cynthia and Aline put their weapons to their chest, preparing for a prayer.

"Move." Emma ran out ahead of them. It took her sisters a blink to catch up with their palatine.

She looked up at the Knight and felt a mixture of awe, quickly overwhelmed by the terror underneath. Just coming close to it could mean that it might crush them by unintentionally stepping on them.

They darted and took cover behind a dead Rhino. Black fumes curled upwards from it´s wounds and reached into the sky. The ground trembled as the Knights stomped their massive feet.

"We´ll be crushed if we come to close!" Cynthia´s arm started trembling as she looked up at the Knight.

"Not if we watch ourselves." Emma released her mag-locked boltpistol.

"Watch ourselves?" Cynthia´s voice rose to a cry. "We´re like insects to that those machine-abominations." The tone in her voice was something Emma found bitterly familiar.

 _You want to be somewhere else._ Emma held the thought to herself. "And how often have you watched for insects on the ground?"

Cynthia didn´t answer. She panted and looked at Aline, who gave her a quick nod.

"They´ll think of us as a neglectable threats." Emma said. "That we´ll be their undoing."

Cynthia nodded. "Alright."

"Give me one grenade, and make sure Cynthia has one as well." Emma commanded Aline, and she did as she was told.

"Galatea." Emma voxed and didn´t wait for an answer. "We´re going to take out the Knight moving close my position." The ground shock again, like the skin of a drum being pounded with a hammer. Emma would have lost her footing if she didn´t grab the hull of the Rhino.

" _How?_ "

"Plasma grenades. If we can get them into the Knight's leg joints, it will collapse."

The response was so blurred by static, Emma struggled to hear what Galatea said. Thankfully it was a short reply with a simple meaning. " _Hurry- p. We can- this heat much lo-._ "

The ground shuddered so violently it was easy to think that a meteor had hit the ground. But Emma knew what it was, and what it meant.

"Cynthia, move up with me." Emma drew her sword. "Aline, stay behind and provide covering fire." She didn´t wait for their answers. "Go!"

With blade crackling and screaming, Emma charged with Cynthia close behind. Towering before them was behemoth of roaring barrels, crying gears and fuming exhausts. More then thirty meters of open ground between them and it. The length of the Knight itself.

 _Thirty meters of death._

The ground shock, and Emma stumbled to her knee. Her side stung as she looked behind her to check on Cynthia.

Her sister was already running up to her. By the time Emma got up, Cynthia had run past her.

The Knight raised its foot again, unknowingly taking a step towards Cynthia. The impact pushed a wave of air and debris that tossed Cynthia of her feet.

Emma rushed to her. She was about to stop, to try and wake her up, when she closed her fist and reached for Cynthia's belt.

 _Ten meters._ The helm´s cogitator displayed a rune that told her the distance. A turret on the wall started spitting, and Emma pushed her boot to the ground. She pulled the grenade from her belt and turned cog on the top. If not for the roar of guns, tanks and wolves, Emma would have heard the grenade´s innards activating with an exited hum.

With her thump, Emma squeezed a button until it produced a crunchy click. _Mag-lock. Ten seconds from activating._

The Knight´s gear joints started buzzing.

Emma ran around the Knight's foot. She wanted to get to the back of the Knight's leg, to the fold of its knee.

As if it knew what she was aiming for, the Knight raised its foot and covered Emma in it shadow.

An iced breath pushed through her teeth. _Two seconds._ She threw the grenade upwards and ran. She ran to the sharp edge of the shadow, into the dim light.

Suddenly, the shadow of the Knight was consumed by the glowing, blue light of a furious sun. At the back of her head and her neck, Emma felt a surge of heat.

Then came the scream. The plasma seared through the metal with ease, and the machine-spirit within cried out in pain. The screech made Emma´s ear ring.

She wasn´t certain if she had run past the shadow. And it didn´t matter. She closed her eyes and ran. She ran as her ear screamed with the sharp _ting_ of a bell.

The Knight cried as if it was in pain when it set down its foot. The inner workings of the foot were nothing but a melted mixture of gears, cogs and wires. When it the ground, it crumbled like it was sinking through mud, but the Knight could still stand.

Another salvo of missiles rained down on it. The void-shield rippled like water and shattered like glass. The armor dented, bent and finally cracked.

The Knight had no chance to react. The autocannon screamed as it crashed. The impact could be felt inside by those on top of the fortress walls and the thud was heard by the reserves beyond the hill. Dust flew out in a thick fog by the fallen machine-warrior´s body.

It was thick enough to clog her helm´s breath grill. Breathing was a struggle and her skin was moist with sweat, but a smile flashed on her lips. She turned to look at the Knight but was only meet with the same brown fog that blanked her vision from the other side.

"Status on the Knight?" Emma voxed Galatea.

Her answer came in the form of a shock wave, followed by the thundering boom of a shell hammering into the Knight´s head. A vague, blurred silhouette took shape and slowly grew as it rolled towards her.

" _The second Knight is heading down the southern flank._ " It was a mans voice that reached entered Emma´s vox. A quick glance at the frequency confirmed that this channel was the one used by the Imperial Guard. " _Tanks disperse._ "

 _Southern flank._ Emma checked her cogitator´s compass took a guess how far of the Knight was based on the noise of its foot steeps. _Hjalmar´s heading north._

"Aline." Emma voxed.

" _Palatine?_ "

"Head for my position. Hurry and use the smoke as cover before it fades."

" _Yes, palatine._ "

 _I need her plasma grenade._ Emma pressed against the dead Knight´s armor. She heard screams spilling from the fortress. "Galatea. I´ve got troops coming out of the fortress again, numbers and direction are unknown. Send all the loaded Rhinos you can and send all the tanks you can spare to bring the reserves."

" _Only two Rhinos left, and I can only send three Leman Tanks to bring troops. Listen, you have to break through this new wave of heretics and take out the turrets. We need to take this fortress while the gates still reaming open._ "

"What about the-"

"We´ll take the Knight down ourselves." Galatea answered.

Emma bit down on her lip until it broke. "Understood."

A shape came running towards her. Out of reflex, Emma flexed the grip around her sword, but the shape soon solidified and took revealed itself as Aline.

"Cynthia?"

Emma shock her head. "I don´t know." She turned to the fortress as she heard the thunder growing in its roar. "The heretics are coming again."

Aline raised her bolter, ready to fire, but Emma put her hand on the weapon.

"Wait." Emma said as she opened a vox-channel. "Hjalmar."

" _Aye._ " She could hear the growls of his brother´s chainswords behind his voice.

"We need reinforcements."

" _Where?_ "

"On my position. We need to break this new wave and assault the gate before it closes." Emma adjusted the finger wrapped around the sword´s hilt.

" _On my way._ "

A screaming man leaped from the dead Knight onto Emma. He wore the flak armor that was standard to Imperial Guard. Black with the sigils of House Mountbatten. But his skin was pulsing red. Emma seized him by the throat and a slithering, slaver drenched tongue snaked out from his misshapen teeth. It wrapped around Emma´s arm and her armor smoked with black fumes as the tongue started sinking in.

She closed her fist and crushed his throat between her fingers. She could feel the neck snapping like a dry twig as his limbs went soft and heavy. He quickly sank from her hand.

Aline´s bolter barked. The ten men that had come for her, armed with bayonets covered with wet-dripping skin, exploded in squalls of gore.

Emma pulled her boltpistol and joined her sister. They came around the corner of the Knight. She had no idea how many, but she assumed and feared another tide. Emma turned and faced them.

Another squad, this one coming from the other side.

Emma activated the sword´s rune and charged with a barking pistol and a screaming blade.

They fired their las-guns at her. The rifle´s flashed and punched against her armor, but faded with only silvery, pebble sized scrapes in the jet-black plating.

The ribcages of two of them burst open as the bolts punched into their armor. And like before, they seemed to lavish these last moments of pain before their lives faded. When Emma´s blade came within reach, they drew blades coated and dripping with a liquid that Emma assumed to be a poison. One of them came for her, and Emma cut his head from his shoulders, the head frozen in a toxic grin. The expression disgusted as much as it puzzled her. And Emma got sharp answer to her confusion. A blade sprouted from his belly, screaming like hers and thrusting sharply towards her stomach.

The lighting coated sword cut through the ceramite. For a moment, Emma had to reaction to grasp the blade with her bare hand. Her hand rolled into a fist that crashed into the side of the blade. On her knuckles, Emma could feel the lighting furiously biting into her skin, right down to the bone without needing to cut through her armor.

The point of the sword left a trail of silver where it touched the armor. Emma took a step to the side and drove her own blade through the dead man´s chest. The sword gave a short pause of resistance before Emma felt it cutting through flesh again. Tearing her sword through the corpse, the blade carved through the man behind.

Blood guzzled from the gashes that opened their ribcages from chest to shoulder. In a shower of gore, the two corpses sank and revealed the final man of the squad.

He looked young. Untouched and confused. His eyes were brown, like oak and his short-trimmed hair was dirt-blond.

Emma paused as her fingers flexed as she entered into a sprint.

The young man blinked, and Emma put her sword through his chest. It happened quick. Quicker than others. When the blade slipped out of him, Emma pulled him close and uttered a small prayer. He sank with closed eyes and blood seeping from his lips.

"EMMA!" Hjalmar roared.

She turned. The old wolf was next to the fallen Knight, along with his brothers and Aline.

"How long until reinforcements arrive?" Hjalmar asked when Emma reached them.

"Too long." Emma reloaded her boltpistol. "We need to break through the heretics and hold the gate until they arrive."

"Alright." Hjalmar turned to his brothers. "Its time we assault the bloody gate! Brother, sisters," Hjalmar raised his axe. "with me!" He and his brothers charged.

Emma and Aline quickly followed. Emma kept close to Hjalmar but when she saw Aline breaking of, she quickly pulled her back.

"Stay close to Hjalmar." Emma said. "His shield will keep us alive until we reach the gate."

A second wave came. They spilled out from the gate. The tide of pink splashed screaming onto the howling wolves. Hjalmar and his brothers hammered through them. The swings of their axes and chainswords cut down men like weed. Quick, almost quicker than Emma could run, they pushed their way through the fanatics as blood mixed with the mud.

They reached the gate and a beast came charging. Its disformed limbs and misshapen mandibles flayed and flung madly around it. It came for Emma, but Hjalmar caught the charge with his shield. The joints and servos of his armor buzzed loudly as the beast slammed into him.

Emma took a few dashing steps to Hjalmar´s side and raised her sword. There wasn´t any visible head to speak of on this beast. It was more of an abomination of hulking muscles and limbs curled with barbed claws and teeth.

When the blade cut through the beast´s flesh, Emma could feel the flesh trying to push her out. As if there were hands underneath it´s skin that were grasping the blade. She grabbed the sword with both hands and opened the beast´s side. It cried out in pain as the blood sprayed from the gash. One of its tendrils lashed out and wrapped themselves around Emma´s head. Silvery white sparks sprayed where the teeth grinded against the black ceramite, blinding her and tugging at her. She caught the slithering limb with her hand and cut it with her sword as the curled, talon-shaped teeth dug themselves into the flesh of her palm.

Hjalmar´s brothers tried rushing to their aid, but the old wolf told them otherwise when he noticed them.

"Take the bloody gate!" Hjalmar bellowed. "Take it and hold it!" He slammed his axe into the side of the beast and the flesh absorbed by folding the leather-like inwards. Hjalmar saw the head of his axe sinking and bashed his shield into the beast, sending it staggering backwards. Not dazzled by the impact, but rather pushed back by the sheer force of Hjalmar´s swing.

Emma pulled the still twitching tendril from her hand and fired her boltpistol against a lump that she assumed was the beast´s head. The pink matter that spilled from the cracks in the bone-plate along with the growling sigh confirmed Emma´s idea. The beast went down.

"To the gate!" Hjalmar shouted.

At first Emma thought he was saying that to her, but she heard the growl of engines behind her. The reinforcement as arrived. She looked behind her and saw wolves, sisters and soldiers.

"With me brothers!" Hjalmar roared. "Come with me and take down these cursed walls!"

"Sisters and soldiers to me!" Emma raised her sword. "Capture the courtyard and the fortress!" She could feel her legs throbbing. Pounding even. But they still carried her forward. That was all that mattered.

The sisters followed Emma close behind. Coming clean from the reserves, they had little trouble following her flank, despite carrying heavy flamers.

The courtyard was an easy conquest. The ones who were still in there came charging towards the sisters with open arms. Any weapons they carried they quickly thrown to the side when they saw the flamers carried by the sisters. The streams of burning promethium poured over them and the flames were slow to finish them. The flesh hissed and fumed as they fell to the ground screaming or sighing. Regardless of their final noise they made, what remained of their faces were twisted by pleasure.

"Do you see what this is?" Sophia´s voice appeared behind Emma. "This is heresy."

Emma didn´t answer.

Sophia walked up next to Emma. Her claws drawn and dripping with lighting. "Fire purges."

Emma looked to her side. Beneath her helmet, her eyes narrowed. "Fire cleanses." She pushed the words through her teeth.

Sophia walked past Emma, taking her squads of winged sisters with her. With their jump packs, they leaped over the second wall and attacked the few remaining soldiers posted there.

Emma was about to call for her sisters to move forward, when she heard a clang of metal, followed by the death-roar of a giant.

" _The Knight as fallen._ " Galatea voxed.

"And we have entered the fortress. We have won."

" _Not yet. We need to purge every heretic in the fortress._ "

"I understand." Emma closed the channel before Galatea could say anything else. She looked at her sisters, they had come armed with bolters, swords… and flamers.

"Come with me and end this war!" Emma charged.

They pushed their way through the fortress tunnels but found no one. The fortress seemed more like tomb than anything else. Their boots clanged and echoed against the black metal covering the floor as they charged through the fortress´s bowls, looking for foes that they didn´t find. Her helm´s cogitator displayed and map of the fortress and marked the path they needed to take in order to find the seat of House Mountbatten.

It took them longer to reach than Emma had excepted. She assumed that Sophia and the Wings, with their jump packs would have reached the throne room before she did. That idea was washed aside when they reached the gate. A thick, beautifully decorated thing made from iron and silver. The markings on it where almost splendid and masterfully crafted to Emma´s eyes, but when she put her hand on the gate, she felt an odd tingle in her fingers.

It took three of her sisters pulling each door to open the gate. When the doors split, a pulse rushed out. Like pressure being released but Emma didn´t feel hear or feel any brush of wind. Yet she felt something press against her skin. Something that somehow pushed through her power armor, and that washed of her like a cold wind in the sun.

Her sisters made another heave and the gate groaned until it was wide open.

Once the gate went silent, Emma heard the moans from within the chamber. Moans and sighs that transported her back. She looked into the throne room and was yanked back by hands made of ice so cold they burned.

She wanted to look away but stared forward with wide eyes. She wanted to run but her body stood still. She wanted to scream but her mouth hung open in silence. Was this the debauchery of the Dark Gods?

"Palatine?" Aline asked. "What are your orders?"

Emma looked at her sisters. "Purge this place of sin." She said, coldly. "Burn them. Make sure none survives."


	53. Chapter 50

The black rose chapter 50

The air reeked of blood and sweat. Johana´s breaths felt heavy as dust started clogging her helm´s grill. She´d given up on trying to squirm free. All it did was send a stab of pain through her legs, and then the images were quick to attack. The tingle was still there, and it kept the images at bay but only when she laid still and let it wash over her senses. Her arm was only thing she could afford to move.

She slammed her palm against the floor. It stung, but the tingle was quick to rush to cover it. It made it almost pleasurable. Her strikes were weak, more like soft paddings as oppose to the strikes she managed to before. She wanted to hit it harder. But her body refused.

Johana let her head fall to the ground. The eye lenses had been slowly fading for some time. The change was so gradual and subtle that Johana hadn´t noticed. Not until now. The image on her right eye became black. In a twitch, Johana blinked, hoping that she had just closed her eyes. But then the darkness became.

 _How long will it take? How much longer will I endure? I only have a single death, and this is all I can do with it?_

The images attacked, and Johana could feel them coming on stronger than before. But just as Johana was preparing for them, the tingle grew stronger.

 _More…_ Johana begged. _Give me more._

As if something could hear her plea, the tingle festered. It did not take long for it to feel like a thousand soft hands where gently caressing her body. With skin as soft as Emma´s they slowed her breath while the beat of her heart raced. She closed her eyes. The hands traveled across her body in waves. Starting from the tip of her fingers and toes, they climbed along each limb. Sinking down only to rise again. Each time another wave came, they climbed a little higher and fell a little shorter. After a few minutes, they reached her torso and started caressing her shoulders and hips. Johana bit her lip in anticipation as they started going between her legs.

Suddenly, the metal groaned, and the hands scurried away like uncovered rats.

 _No._

A harsh ray of light cut through a fresh-born crack. At first it was a narrow thing, no thicker than a leaf. But with a loud creak, the crack grew larger. Just a few seconds after it appearing, the crack grew taller than a man and the silhouette of an armored giant stood in its maw.

"Hurry and drag her out!" The giant said with a thick, loud voice. "I can´t hold this bloody thing forever!"

Two more giants stepped forward. Despite her eyes still struggling to fight the light, making the shapes of them just blurred and grey, the sound of their voices and the smell of them told Johana who they were. The wolves reached out and took her with their armored hands.

 _Don´t._ Johana was about to protest when the wolves stopped themselves.

"She´s stuck." One of them said.

"Oh bloody…" Hjalmar grunted. "Aigor! Jurgen! Get over here and lift this!"

Two more wolves came running and grabbed the piece of armor pinning Johana to the ground. The release was sudden and send a tide of ice through Johana´s body from her legs. She tried to speak but her lips were numb and dry.

 _Come back…_ Johana begged. _Come back…_

Once she was free, Hjalmar tossed the flattened hull to his side. "Can you hear me?" He asked while his brothers spread her over the ground.

Johana smacked her lips and blinked to no vail. Her helmet covered her face and hid it all.

Carefully, the old wolf lifted her head and removed her helmet.

"Johana." Hjalmar said with a smile. "You´ve got some mad luck." He turned to his brothers. "Help the sisters and guardsmen with their wounded. I´ll bring her back to the camp."

His brothers left, and Hjalmar lifted Johana in his arms. Her muscles managed to fell numb and sore at the same time. Trying as he might to be gentle, even the slightest movement by the old wolf was painful. While it hurt, it was also strangely welcoming.

"Did…" Johana managed to push a word through her lips.

"Did we win?" Hjalmar filled in the question. "Aye. We won. Wouldn´t be talking otherwise. But it wasn´t easy." He looked grim for a moment before his face shifted to one of amusement. "At least you got lucky, managed to sit most of it out."

Johana didn´t have the energy to laugh. If she did she would have spat Hjalmar in the face. _Stop your dumb jokes._

"I´ll take you to the Hospitaler." Hjalmar said. "And let Emma know you´re alive."

* * *

The treatment was simple. Simple but painful. In spite of sedatives that the Hospitaler injected, the sensation of the servitor prodding its needles into the base of her spine would have sent her screaming if every single muscle in her body hadn´t turned into an unresponsive lump of gel. Instead she just hung still while the machine-slave remade and stitched together fiber-nerves. Just the feeling of one of the threads being remade made it feel as if a thunder strike was charging through her body. And the servitor was making ten of them every minute.

She couldn´t tell how long it took. She could not remember when it started. She only knew it was done because the servitor stitched her skin together and left her on a gurney with the sedatives still running through her blood.

She was in room with other sisters. Wounded or dead, they were all gathered in the same tent. Some were on the brink of death, and once they slipped of the edge, a servitor was quick to remove them from the gurney and put the body in a bag.

Her dry lips parted, the skin broke in a few places but least she could let the air pass through her mouth. Blinking, Johana looked over her sisters.

 _I am alive._ The thought weighed on her mind. _And I will live._ Her eyes closed at the realization.

There was some argument outside the tent. Johana looked over and saw the Hospitaler arguing with a sister. She was trying to enter the tent but the Hospitaler stepped in front of her.

"Do I need to remind you of my rank a second time?"

The Hospitaler stepped slowly aside and Emma entered the tent. Her armor was scratched. Her robes were scorched and her hand was wrapped in bandages. Her hair was unwashed and unkempt, left in wild and messy. But the radiance and golden color still shined through in places. She rushed up to Johana and put her wounded hand on hers while gently tracing Johana´s cheek with her other hand.

Johana tried to smile, but the corners of her mouth barely raised.

"She can´t talk yet." The Hospitaler said. "The sedatives will keep her like this for some time. There is no point in trying to talk to her."

Emma turned to the Hospitaler. "Leave us." She said.

The Hospitaler answered with a frown before she turned to look after the other sisters.

"We won." Emma said once the Hospitaler was gone. "The war is over. The heretics have nothing left to fight us with."

Johana tried to raise her hand but only managed to get a twitch at the end of her fingers.

"Once the fortress has been completely destroyed, we will march for the capital. And then…" Emma paused. Her blue eyes looked down, to the side. "And then we will have to deal with the Inquisitor, and his plans." She looked back at Johana and traced her fingers down the line of her jaw.

An urge spread through Johana. A furious, mad urge. She knew where it came from but couldn´t explain its sudden strength. If her body wasn´t slack with tranquilizing chemicals, she would have thrown herself into Emma´s arms and kissed her again.

The soft hands returned as whispers started tracing through Johana´s mind. The whispers sang in tunes that bathed her body in sensation. She closed her eyes and saw the images again. She opened them, and there was Emma. Her golden hair, her blue eyes, her kind smile.

"I will release you of your oath." Emma reached to her belt and untied the sheathed sword of its strap. She put the weapon at Johana´s side. "I will expect my own sword back." Emma´s eyes grew somber. "You are now free to seek your redemption in death."

 _Both those oaths mean nothing to me anymore._ Johana´s eyes sank to a close, and the images returned but the song grew louder and stronger. _My only duty is to you, my love._


	54. Chapter 51

The black rose chapter 51

The days in the chamber were a droll. It was strange to her, that on a planet in the middle of war, the capital somehow managed the most boring place in the world.

 _I miss the sisters._ Serena thought as she transcribed the message. _I_ _almost miss those brutes that call themselves Astartes._

She turned the page and began work on the second one. _Though I must thank the Inquisitor._ Serena looked over at the ticking clock mounted on the wall. _The nights are always interesting around the young general._

Corvey entered the chamber once the sun had set. Like always, his face was washed with weariness. Purple rings hung beneath his eyes and unkempt stubble covered his cheeks. He was the picture of a fat, grey-haired bureaucrat in the making. But when Serena saw him, she put on a smile and played with a lock of her hair.  
"My general." Serena said.  
"Lady Blois." Corvey shuffled through the parchments he had brought with him. "Did you get the message transcribed?"  
"I did, lord Ironfield."  
"Good." Corvey kept his eyes to the papers.  
Serena pushed her chair aside and slowly made her way to him. She placed her hand on the young general´s shoulder and felt him stiffen somewhat.  
"Tell me," Serena said. "How did you rise to the rank of general despite your young age?"  
"It's a rather unremarkable tale." Corvey threw her a quick glance before he returned to the documents.  
"I can´t imagine a tale like your being unremarkable." Serena rubbed his shoulder and let her hand on occasion slip down Corvey´s back.  
"I´d rather not tell. I´ve got matters to tend to."  
"And what are these matters? How do you keep things in cheek during this time of war?" Serena was about to ask about the messages that she was transcribing to the Inquisitor but was quick to stop herself, recalling how Emma would refuse to share many details of the war with her.  
"With great effort, and even greater amounts of caffeine." Corvey responded. "Which would be manageable if that was all of it."  
"It must be very tiresome." Serena said. "To manage an entire planets defenses while half it is trying to destroy the other."  
"You have no idea."  
Serena paused for a moment. "When I was younger my mother used to teach me to smile and nod in the proper way. I hated it. It used to make drive me mad, and now I sit here in the capital, by orders of the Emperor´s Inquisition to transcribe messages for the General of the Imperial Guard. Life sure as a funny way of working itself out," She gave Corvey a gentle stroke across his temples. "doesn´t it?"  
"Sometimes." Corvey replied. He looked into Serena´s green eyes. "I was taught to command troops, divided tank divisions and asses the best positions for artillery. Do you know how many days I´ve spent applying my lessons?"  
"I don´t know, my general." She brushed a string of his hair from his forehead.  
"Zero." Corvey answered. "Ever since I came of age I have spent more than fifteen years shuffling paperwork, managing logistics and distributing munitions. And now, when civil war breaks out on our world, an inquisitor with his pack of wolves are the one who deal the deciding blow." He chuckled. "Thinking about it, maybe it is funny."  
"It's odd, definitely. Heretical one could say."  
Corvey raised a brow. "I´m not sure how winning the war by using the Emperor´s Angels of Death can be heresy."  
"Have you seen the wolves?"  
"I´ve read about them." Corvey admitted with tired look.  
"I´ve seen them." Serena said. "They are crude, borderline savage. They drink and feast at any chance they get, they howl like mad animals and fight by tearing their enemies' limb from limb. It must be in their nature. Why else would they act in such barbaric ways?"  
"It may not be long before you see them again."  
"What do you mean, my general?"  
"House Mountbatten stands defeated. Their members purged, and their fortress taken. It will only be matter of time before it is blown into oblivion by the sisters." Corvey´s face whitened with dread. "And then they will return to the capital."  
"Does that concern you, my general?"  
Corvey sighed and took another parchment. He began to write something.  
"What are you writing?"  
"A message for the Inquisitor." Corvey said. "I will need it sent tonight. Can you make sure of that?"  
Of course she could. And like Derik had said, the messages were quiet thoroughly encrypted. The code sheath that her escort had brought with her was sealed in an envelope that would have been impossible for her to open without it being noticed, and Corvey kept it on his person at all times. Though the young general was not the sharpest of minds to Serena´s frustration, he was careful to keep the code sheath hidden. Not that he needed much of it, he hadn´t used it for days.  
 _He must have memorized the codes. But he´s not as smart as the Inquisitor._ Serena thought. The messages she was given were simple. Just words that she should work into sentences with seemingly no regard for placement or order. Then they sent a simple vox-taps to relatives and friends she held across the system.  
 _That means the codes probably aren´t very complex._ She concluded. She assumed that Inquisitor was probably picking the messages up before they could reach anyone else and then he simple deciphered them himself. _Maybe I could decipher them myself. And see what it is that Derik and Corvey are plotting together._ She brushed a lock of her hair aside. _No. There are other, better ways to know a man´s secrets._  
"I will see it done, my general." She took the message and brought her vox-transmitter to the young general´s desk and started sending.  
Corvey did seem to be occupied by other matters though he would always react when Serena pushed up against him and stroked him. He would never push her away, even if he seemed like he was trying to ignore her. Serena laughed softly at the little faces that he made.  
"Do you have an intended yet?" She asked.  
"No."  
"No? A man like you? You must have hundreds of beautiful noble girls clawing at their throats to have a chance to be next to you."  
"Not a single one."  
"No one, my general?"  
"No one." The purple rings under Corvey´s eyes brightened with a red flush.  
"Why is that, my general?"  
"The nobles all look at me, and know I am of weak stock. The weak, failed son of legendary General Ironfield. The General who came from Cadia herself, climbed up the rank of general, held our lines against the Forces of Chaos for longer than any general before him. Then came his son, the son that was supposed to carry his legacy."  
"And now he sits here in the capital." Serena put the words into his mouth. "Being a glorified serf to someone else's war." She gave him another stroke along his temple, carefully tracing down the contour of his face, down to his jaw. "My mother used to goad me into becoming a neat, pretty little lady for all her friends to admire. She wanted me to be the perfect daughter she could sell of to some friend of hers to become even more powerful."  
"Is that why you ran away?"  
Serena smiled. "Yes, my general." She leaned in. "That is why I ran away. To find something better." She planted a soft kiss on his lips.  
The young general face was still when she pulled back. His lips slightly parted and his eyes wide.  
"Was that your first kiss, my general?"  
Corvey closed his mouth. "It was my second. There was one, long ago. I was at a party set by some of my… friends. They drank, they danced, and I mostly stared. Eventually a woman came up to me. She was beautiful. She was…"  
"A liar." Serena said.  
"She pulled me aside, kissed me, said she loved me. When I asked if she was spoke the truth, she laughed into my face. I still remember the way she laughed, the way she grinned."  
She kissed him on the cheek. "I understand. I know what its like to have someone use you, only for them to throw you away."  
"Its not an easy thing to forget." Corvey said.  
 _Give it time._ Serena told herself. _He will succumb soon enough._ "All wounds will eventually heal."  
"And all scars fade." Corvey said.  
"You know the saying?"  
"I was trained to be a commander. I was told of you can survive any horror, recover from any wound and live with any scar. You don´t think I heard a million sayings like that?"  
"How were you taught to do that?"  
"Think of the horrors like obstacles, treat the wounds like they were your enemies and wear your scars like they were medals." Corvey grunted. "They must have told me that so many times I almost went deaf."  
"It's a though mindset to master."  
"Its even worse if you never get to use it."  
"There are few things as tragic as a finely crafted sword that never gets to spill blood." Serena pulled Corvey in closer and rested her chin on his shoulder.  
"True." Corvey leaned his head on top of hers.  
 _Soon. I will have him soon._


	55. Chapter 52

The black rose chapter 52

 _Finished and ready._ Derik crumbled the paper he had been transcribing. _And the sisters are making ready to head back._

Frustration boiled inside his veins. He jumbled ideas in his head, he thought about what he could have done differently, about the things he should have done.

 _Pointless._ Derik poured himself a glass. He raised the glass to his lips but put tossed it into the wall. The glass shattered, and the liquor dripped down to the floor.

"I need my head clear." Derik mumbled to himself and bit his thumb. He thought about how far away the sisters where and how long it would take them to get there. In other circumstances he may have been concerned by the sisters' insistence of making their way on foot, but now, he was calmed by it. _Even by transport,_ Derik punched a few keys on his cogitator. _It will take them at least two weeks._

For a moment, Derik hoped that the wolves would take their leave but quickly realized his own flawed logic. _I promised them glory, and they will claim it. Besides, Hjalmar seems to have taken an interest in Emma._ Even if Derik held his own interests in Emma, he doubted that the old wolf shared them. Though it wasn´t difficult to guess them. _The wolves value honest strength, and she´s shown them to have it._ It was not something Derik would ever deny.Thinking about it and the wolves made him grunt in bitterness. _It´ll be the end of both of them._

"Two weeks." Derik returned his thoughts to the matter at hand. _Alfred will probably have me killed the moment I set foot in the capital. And the only way I have to receive anything from the capital is from little Lady Blois._

The young lady troubled Derik. She was deceitful, and Derik held little doubt that she wouldn´t attempt something to improve her position. _Nobles always have expensive interests and lavish lifestyles. So be it._ Derik had to decide. _She can have whatever seat she wants to. If she becomes troublesome I´ll just tell the sisters on her. Emma will never hurt her, but Sophia may have other ideas once I tell her of who she is the daughter of._ Derik smiled at the idea. _That might just get her to sway her opinion of me and might just reevaluate my proposal of heading to Cadia._

His finger nail scratched the desk. _But first I need to stop Alfred and his promethium. I need to get into the Capital somehow._

"The Capital has become a volatile mixture since the last time I visited it. A single spark is enough to ignite it."

 _Damn,_ Derik´s face sank into his hand. _Why did I throw the glass away?_

"Can´t be acting a fool." Derik active his desk-vox. "Tayber?"

" _Yes, Inquisitor?_ "

"Come to my office, at once. And bring a scribe servitor with you."

" _It will be done._ "

Derik sat back in his chair. _This is going to be dangerous. Chance of something going wrong… high. Consequences of something going wrong… grievous. Risk… damnably high._ He stared forward. _War and infiltration are always risky. The only difference is in the field of battle and tools of death. The sisters, the guardsmen and the wolves use their swords, axes, bolters and rifles. I use soft words, mixed with the occasional effective lie._

Tayber entered the room in his usual hunched manner. A servitor came after. The machine-slave was large. Almost the height of a Space Marine, though the height of this was mostly attributed to its extensive machine augmentations that stored miles of parchment and gallons of ink.

"What is your wish, Inquisitor?"

"Have the scribe note the things I am about to say."

Tayber nodded and activated some keys on the servitor. His segmented fingers slithered and wormed their way into crevasses and holes that no human finger would ever had been able to fit in.

 _A little safety mechanism._ Derik noted with a quiet chuckle.

"It is ready, Inquisitor." Tayber said.

"Good." Derik said. "What I am about to share with you are some rather important facts and codes. Make sure none of them are missed."

"Do you doubt my servitor?" Tayber said.

"I´d be a fool to doubt it." Derik said. "I am simple making sure you understand the importance of the things I am going to say."

"I do. Now tell me what you are about to say."

"In the event of my death, or disappearance," The servitor came to life with parchment rolling from the roll on its back and poured out of it with a mechanical quill moving quicker then Derik could perceive. "I wish for my ship to remain in orbit and escort any sisters that are willing to Cadia in defense for the coming Black Crusade."

"Your death, Inquisitor?"

"Just a precaution. Is the order understood?"

"It is, Inquisitor." Tayber answered with an exited jiggle. "Will you share the coordinates for the planet suspected of holding the STC?"

"Those are housed within my desk´s cogitator." Derik tapped a finger on the board.

"Very good, Inquisitor. What about the hostages we house on board?"

Derik had to admit, he hadn´t given them much thought. But that also gave him an idea. "How many do we hold in total?"

"Twenty-three, Inquisitor."

 _This will take some time, but it might be worth it._ "Send them here. One by one, I will have them questioned."

"May I ask why you have so suddenly decided to change the subject?"

"Because it may make a big difference in the war to come."

"Can you clarify?

"No." Derik said impatiently. "Now get them."

Tayber bowed and left with the servitor in close proximity.

Derik returned to his desk´s cogitator. He went through the names of every one of the noble children he held hostage. He checked their families, he checked their fame, their wealth and their notoriety.

 _All famous, some notorious, and all of them wealthy._ Derik stroked his cheek and listened to the grating of fresh stubble. _Good._

The first one to enter was a child. A girl no older than seven years old. She was skinny, dirty and still wearing a torn dress made of expensive fabric.

 _Thank the Emperor that Emma isn´t here._ Derik thought.

"Lady Orbero." Derik said.

"Lord Inquisitor." The scrawny girl replied with a weak voice.

"I am going to ask you some questions, and I want you to answer them. Truthfully. Or I´ll have your rations taken away. Is that understood?"

"Yes, lord Inquisitor."

"Does your family have any friends in the Capital? Any associates or anyone they regularly invited to their home?"

"I don´t know, lord Inquisitor."

"Are you certain?" Derik reached into his desk and took out a yellow, pear shaped fruit.

When lady Orbero saw it, her eyes widened, and Derik could see saliva gathering in the corners of her mouth. "I am certain, my lord."

 _She´s at least truthful._ Derik gave her to the fruit and she eat it eagerly. He then had her sent back to her cell.

He went through at least a dozen of them before he finally found one who could answer the questions to Derik´s satisfaction. It was a on old boy, a young man almost, of House Greystone. He looked strong. Powerfully built with a bush of black hair on his head.

"So, you are certain of this, Armo?" Derik asked.

"Yes. My uncle is a commander of the Imperial Guard who lives in the Capital and regularly meets with general Ironfield."

Derik studied his face, but didn´t spot any sign of lies. _He is either a master of lying, or stubbornly honest. Time to put it to the test._

"Contact your uncle."

"How?"

"Use my ship." Derik said. "And before you think of anything, I will be with you the entire time."

"And what should I tell my uncle?"

"That he is about to have a visitor."


	56. Chapter 53

Authors notice: due to a mistake on my part on the last upload chapters 54 and 53 where accidently double posted. This has now been fixed and I hope you forgive me.

The black rose chapter 53

"How long until we move on?" Anna asked.

"Another day or two." Galatea said. "Our sisters and the Guardsmen need time to recover."

"What about the wolves?"

" _Thank the Allfather for our victory!_ " A barking voice shouted before Galatea could open her mouth. It was a group of the wolves. Gathered around a crackling fire, they drank foaming ale, ate black-roasted meat and sang songs in a tongue that neither Galatea or Anna could understand.

One of them, a wolf with a bald-cut head with an arm missing noticed them. He was young, that much Galatea could tell just by looking at him. Hjalmar´s face may have been hidden behind his bushy, rust-brown beard and unkept hair but time left clear marks around his eyes. This one was still soft. His stump was fresh, and the bandages used to seal the wound where still stained with blood.

"Sisters." He said with froth gathered on his upper lip in a white line.

"Battle-Brothers." Galatea answered with a respectful bow. "Are you celebrating our victory?"

"Aye. Because it is a victory worth celebrating." He shifted to make some room on the log he was sitting on. "Come. Join us. Help yourselves to our food, and don´t forget to drink."

Galatea was about to say no when she remembered that she was quite hungry, and little thirsty. "I suppose the end of this war is something that calls for celebration." She sat down with Anna at her side. Before she had a chance to share her name, the wolves offered her a tankard overflowing with ale and a roasted stake dripping melted butter.

She took a bite of the stake and sipped down some of the ale and fought of the urge to cough from the stuff. Anna tore chunks of the meat of with her teeth and took large chugs of the ale to wash it down.

"I´m Galatea." She said while wiped her mouth with a handkerchief.

"Palatine of the Tail?" The wolf asked.

"Yes." Galatea replied, a little puzzled.

"Aye, I thought I recognized your scent. Hjalmar´s told me about you."

"This is…"

"Anna. Standard Bearer." He said before she could continue.

"You two know each other?"

"Aye. She´s been feasting with us on our walk here. I´m Tor, this Ake and Val." He gestured with his remaining hand across his brothers who all nodded in when introduced. "They're my pack-brothers."

"Those that are left of us." Ake said while raising his tankard to take a chug. He had bright, orange hair cut into a mohawk with a beard that hid the outline of his chin.

"Oh, don´t spoil the mood, brother." Val said. "This is a time for celebration for many reasons. We have crushed the rebellion on this planet, and we have one of the heroes of the blackwater feasting with us."

Galatea raised her brow. "Who´s this hero?"

Tor replied with a chuckle that almost turned into laughter. "You are the driver of the Exorcist tank, are you not?"

"Yes."

"So, you took down two of the Traitor Knights. That makes you a hero worth celebrating." Tor took a large bite out of his stake and poured ale down his throat. "Come now, Glass-Eye, don´t stare with your mouth open like an eel. Drink. Eat."

"What did you call me?"

"Glass-Eye." Tor looked into Galatea´s augmented eye.

Galatea looked at him with a mixture of shock and amusement. "That´s might bold coming from the wolf with only one arm left."

Ake and Val laughed. Anna joined them with a drunk giggle. Tor did seem to be grimly serious at first, but he quickly joined them with a growling chuckle.

"You know," Tor said. "When we were told we´d be landing on this planet I thought it would be a boring stop on our trail. Turned out to be quite the musing venture." He raised his tankard to Galatea, and she knocked it into his.

"What now?" Galatea asked. "Do you leave our system and continue on your path to redemption?" She was still unsure of what exactly the wolves were redeeming, but the issue of weather they would leave sooner rather than later was more pressing.

"Course we´re staying." Tor said. "The Inquisitor promised Hjalmar - and us - glory. We got to make sure to collect."

"Was that your reason for coming? To gain glory?"

"Aye, at first. But Hjalmar told us there was far more to collect on this planet than glory. Otherwise we would have left you after the first battle."

"And what did he think was here?" Galatea felt like she knew the answer.

"Some of great mortal warriors, who could join us on our path."

Galatea smiled, feeling the sway of the ale. "I´m sure a captain like him can see value in every capable warrior he meets, but the glory doesn´t hurt now does it?"

Tor shrugged. "No. But it didn´t come easy."

"If glory was simple to collect we´d all be legends." Ake said.

"Aye." Tor refilled his tankard and raised it. "Glory to those who gave their lives so that can we live to carry on the fight for the Imperium."

"To Ugir." Ake said.

"To Kar." Val said.

"To Lilly." Galatea said.


	57. Chapter 54

The black rose chapter 54

 _All mighty Emperor…_ Corey rubbed the grains out of his eyes. _Grant me guidance. Grant me a sign._

Serena snored gently at his side, her head resting on his chest. Under the blanket, she was completely naked, but Corey could not stop staring at the curly, brown hair that spilled from her head. He lifted a string of the hair and let it drift along his finger. She was still sleeping, even if the moment they shared together that night lasted less than half a minute.

 _She doesn´t know._ Corey sighed while staring up at the roof decorated with golden branches. _Blessed is the mind ignorant of its approaching doom._ He wasn´t certain if that was the saying, but it fit the situation.

He tried to push Serena aside without waking her up, but her eyes opened the moment he moved.

"Is it morning, my general?" She asked.

"Not yet. But work waits for no one." He climbed to the edge of the bed but was stopped by Serena putting her hand on his shoulder.

"Can't it wait for a general?" She tried to reach around his neck, but Corey took her hand of.

"No. It can´t." He started pulling his clothes on, somewhat sloppily which made Serena giggle when she looked at him.

"Wrong button." She said with playful tone.

"I´ve never been good at putting on my uniform." Corey said with a grunt of frustration as he adjusted his belt.

"Here," Serena climbed out of the bed. "let me help."

She didn´t bother to use the blanket to cover herself, and Corey couldn´t do anything but look at her as his cheeks grew red. She was very pretty. Milk-white, soft skin and a body that looked it had been made by sculptor. Yet after his eyes had traveled down and up her body, Corey stared at her luscious brown hair.

"There." Serena said. "You are ready."

Corey tore his eyes from her. "I´ll be back later."

"Don´t be gone for too long."

The door slammed with a clang of steel once he left. The moment he heard the door closing, Corey felt ready to scream. He put both hands on his face and let his head fall back. _Emperor,_ _is she a mercy before this city becomes consumed by flames?_

As per usual, the only answer he got was silence. What other answer could there be?

He made his way to the Ministorum office and meet his officers. The climb up the office was long. He rose at least two hundred meters. His legs hurt, more than usual. The pain was almost welcome compared to meeting the Ministorum´s officers for the tenth time this week. Gandrel, Bladwick, Conrad; all old, sour men who were preferred at recalling the meals they had in their youth then the logistical numbers that were needed for the sisters´ return.

 _It won´t make much of a difference if I can´t do something about it._

"My lords." Corey said ones he entered the room.

"Ah, lord Ironfield." Gandrel, the Master of Administration, said. Like his peers, he was pale, old and ugly. Despite his age, he had received little in the way of augmentation making sure that the only thing you could see of him was his leathery, spotted skin.

"Pardon us, lord Ironfield," Gandrel went on. "But we decided to start the meeting without you."

"Yes," Baldwick said, the vox-grill that covered his face produced a growl that Corey always struggled to make words out of. "It would seem that our young general seemed it fit to sleep in this morning."

Corey sighed to himself. It seemed like no matter how many times he experienced the same treatment he always felt a sting each time others looked down on him. But this time he felt it a little more than usual.

"No matter." Corey said. "What did I miss?"

"Nothing of great importance." Gandrel said. "In fact, we were just finishing talking about the deeds we have heard of the sisters and the wolves. Who would have though we would ever be graced by the presence of the Adeptus Astartes?"

"Seems almost more unlikely that they come from the savage tribes of Fenris." Conrad, the High Judge of the Capital, was the one to raise his voice. Among a collection of stalwart conservatives, he was an unmovable mountain. "Can even you believe that the sisters have fought alongside the Imperial Guard as well?"

"Those orders came from the Inquisitor himself." Corey said. "You would do well to remember that when he arrives with the sisters." He was perfectly aware of how empty his threat was. He had no idea where the Inquisitor was… and then there was Alfred´s plan.

"To more important matters." Gandrel said. "We need to make preparations for the sisters´ return. I suggest a parade through the city. Let everyone see the glorious Sisters of the Hawk walk through the streets so that they may take in the presence of such pure and mighty warriors."

"In that case," Conrad said. "I suggest we keep the wolves and guardsmen aside."

"And when the wolves ask why they aren´t allowed to be seen by the people, what should I tell them then?" Corey said.

"Tell them to go back to their home planet. We have no need for them anymore." Conrad said.

 _The only man who could match Alfred´s stubbornness._ Corey thought as he wrote down the notes. He made purposefully clear in his notes that the wolves should be walking with the sisters along with the guardsmen. _They have served and died along with the sisters. They deserve this honor, and these Lords deserve an insult._

"There is also the need for a new canoness to be elected to the Sisters of the Hawk." Corey said, and the lords stared at him with perplexed eyes. "You may recall that the old one fell not too long ago."

"This is true." Baldwick said after a pause. "Currently there are three palatines, with one being unusually young for her position."

"What is the name of this sister palatine?" Conrad asked.

"Emma."

"In that case," Conrad said. "It will come down to a trial between Palatine Galatea of the Tail and Palatine Sophia of the Wings."

"Why should we leave out the new palatine?" Corey asked.

"You can´t except us to give the honor of rising to Canoness to a young-blooded sister."

"I wouldn´t call her young-blooded." Corey said. "Young, certainly. But if you had read the reports you´d know that she´s proven herself a capable battle commander. The wolves have even taken to calling her the Terminator-Slayer."

Conrad scoffed. "If you´d given the reports a thorough reading, you´d know that she only got that name because they made a deal with the traitor nobles of hive city Molncel. I could have her tried for heresy because of that."

"Are you certain you wish to offend the wolves by accusing her of that?" Corey said.

The two of them stared at each other.

"What of the prisoners of war?" Baldwick said. "And the nobles that the Inquisitor holds in his ship?"

"I will see them all tried." Conrad said. "By my own hand, I will sign the sentences for each of the heretics."

Corey wanted to raise his voice in protest, just to spite Conrad further. But there was nothing for him to threaten Conrad with this time.

 _Perhaps the Inquisitor will not take kindly to the idea of having his hostages taken away from him._ He thought and made himself chuckle at the grim humor he was telling. _Conrad barely respects the Inquisitor more than he respects me. The only thing he fears is the wrath of the wolves. And what do they care for some nobles?_ He accepted defeat without even trying, the truest kind of failure.

The meeting went on for hours. There was little for Corey to do other than to listen to the lords make their judgments and calmly nod and agree with what they said. There were so few cards left for him to play. They didn´t fear the Inquisitor, the wolves where brushed aside as savages and the sisters would always follow the commands of their cardinal, Alfred.

He spent the time thinking about the new palatine, Emma. The reports stated clearly that she was the one who accepted the surrender of the heretical guardsmen and was crucial in the deal at Molncel.

 _When Alfred releases the promethium, where will she stand?_ There was a glimmer of hope to it. A glimmer that may just be a treachery. Corey decided to hold on to it. To a doomed man, even the treacherous hope was still hope. 

By the end of the meeting, Corey felt his legs cramping and the muscles throbbing. It had been a longer meeting than usual, he was more used to being ordered around or chasing scribes between meetings. Perhaps it was just Conrad being spiteful. Trying to get his revenge on Corey by dragging the meeting out for as long as possible.

 _Petty vengeance is probably the only thing he lives for these days._ Like his peers, Conrad was a man of merit. They had all reached their positions through what they claimed to be hard work, and dutiful service.

 _Then where does studying and legacy get you?_

In spite of Conrad´s efforts, the meeting finally came to a close. The lords decided that the sisters would march through the Capital alone. From the lower levels to the upper in a massive parade that displayed the heroines of what they numerically called, war on heresy number five-three-nine. It was far from the first war this system had recorded but it was the largest that Corey had ever known of.

 _Great wars should have great names._ Corey thought as he gathered his notes. _The Deadly Dance of Wolves, Hawks and Eagles. That´s a better name._ He noted it and prepared to make his way back to his chamber. He wanted to throw himself on top of Serena. He wanted to take her and forget about all his worries. But there was still one matter that needed attending.

 _The pyre has been built. Its only waiting for the flame._

He was about halfway down the corridor when he was stopped by Colonel Greystone. He seemed unusually weary and tired.

"What´s the matter, Colonel?" Corey asked when as the man gasped for breath.

"Give me a minute." The Colonel leaned on the wall as heaved ragged breaths. "Sorry, old age seems to have taken its toll on me."

"Could you just tell what you want? My time is rather limited."

"Yes." He reached into his pocket and returned with a wrapped parchment. "I have this message to deliver to you, and I am are also to tell you that you have received a new serf."

"Another one?" Corey sighed. "Well it won´t hurt to have another hand help me with my duties." _Provided he can keep his mouth shut._ "Where is this serf?"

"He´s right behind me." The Colonel turned and pointed to a tall man dressed in simple robes with a hood pulled over his head. He had a slow, elegant walk to him and what little of his face could be seen from underneath the shadow of the hood was covered in breathing grill. At first Corey wasn´t even sure if it was a man, but the tone of his distorted voice and the shape of his frame quickly reassured the young general.

"General Corey Ironfield." The serf said while bowing. "I am honored to meet you."

"What is your name serf?" Corey asked.

"Garviol, my lord." The serf answered.

"Come with me, serf." Corey turned on his heel and started walking. The serf was a bit slow to follow. At first Corey wasn't certain if he was following him, but a quick look over his shoulder confirmed that the serf was not far behind.

"Why have you come, serf?"

"I was sent here by one of your friends."

Corey thought of all the people he knew, from nobles to officers, every single one of them likely to want to mock Corey for one reason or another. But he could see how any ridicule could be born from simply providing him with a new serf, though it didn´t take a whole lot of imagination to think of ways it could.

"Which one of my friends sent you, serf?"

"I am afraid he would rather have it kept a secret, my lord."

Corey stopped. He turned to Garviol. "If you do not tell me who has sent you, you might has well go back to your masters and tell them that I have no time or patience for their games."

"Come closer, my lord, and I shall tell you who sent me."

Corey leaned in, and the Garviol looked to their sides to make sure no one was listening.

"The High Cardinal Alfred." Garviol whispered into Coreys ear.

Those words made Coreys heart freeze before it sank. _He must be wanting to keep an eye on me. If I ever send him away, he will probably note that and make sure that Alfred knows of it._ Ideas charged through his head. He still needed some way of contacting the Inquisitor, to let him know of the plans for the parade and how they might use that time to halt Alfred´s plan. Now it all seemed all for naught.

"My lord?" Garviol said. "Are you alright?"

"I´m fine. Follow me to my chamber."

Silence was the first thing that meet them when they entered the first hall of Coreys inherited house. This was followed by the eco of their boots beating against the floor like drums. It was all shining marble, crafted and refined from the mines of distant systems. Nothing else would have satisfied his mother when she finalized the marriage to his father.

Corey took Garviol to his scribe chamber and sat down at his desk. He ordered Garviol to fetch more parchment, but the serf paused before he went to get the papers.

"Are we alone here, general?" Garviol put a hand on the edge of his hood.

"No." Serena said as she climbed out of the bed, wearing only a silky robe to cover herself. "You are not alone."

"My lady," Garviol took his hand of the hood. "Forgive me. I did not know you where there."

"Who is this, my general?" Serena asked as she wrapped her arms around Corey´s neck.

"A serf I have been commanded to take."

"Like me, my general?" Serena kissed his cheek and let her head rest on his shoulder.

"No. Not like you." Corey threw her a smile. "Serf fetch the parchment."

"As you will, my lord."


	58. Chapter 55

The black rose chapter 55

The Capital was larger than she remembered, but it had been a long time since Emma was there. It was more than ten years ago. _A young pupil of the Sisters of the Hawk now returns as the Palatine of the Talons._ Emma thought with a touch of pride.

She was marching in the front, to her side were Galatea of the Tail, Sophia of the Wings and Anna the Standard Bearer with the Banner of the Hawk flapping above their heads. The silver hawk in the center of it reflected the light of dawn. Behind them came Hjalmar and following him where the companies of the sisters parading alongside the wolves.

The crowd cheered and cried as they marched through the street. They tossed baskets full of petals from flowers that slowly drifted down like snowflakes in the early days of winter. Bright-pink blood-roses, ash-grey fire-lilies, sea-green irises, and many, many more kinds drifted through the air, filling it with colors and scents. Emma caught on of the petals drifting into her hand.

"I was the one who threw that!" A young man bellowed from a balcony.

"No, I was!" Screamed an old lady from the barricades blocking the street.

"I was!" Someone shouted from the side of the street.

Emma looked around for all these voices making claim to the petal, but they quickly grew too numerous to keep track of. The moment one would raise their voice another would shout, promising that they did it. She opened her hand, and it was gone. Carried of by the wind and crushed beneath the boots of her sisters somewhere behind her.

"Fools." Sophia said. "Thinking they are worthy of the Emperor´s grace."

Emma didn´t answer her. She wrapped her hand around her swords hilt and kept her eyes forward.

"Still," Sophia went on. "Their foolishness does not match yours."

Emma was about to turn to Sophia when one of the wolves roared. This wasn´t a blood-drenched battle cry, this was a bellowing roar of triumph and it was loud enough to drown the cheers of the crowd. She assumed that the roar came from Hjalmar but when she turned to look at him, the old wolf was walking forward in silence. It was only when she looked further back that she realized that it was Tor and his brothers that were roaring. They only paused for breath and when they did they banged their breastplates with their fists like drums.

"They came here for glory." Galatea said. "They want to drink it in."

"I see." Emma said, though it puzzled her why Hjalmar was not joining his brothers. She fell out of formation with her sisters, so she ended up next to the old wolf.

"Why aren´t you celebrating?" Emma asked.

"Hrrn." Hjalmar shrugged. "I prefer celebrating with a tankard of ale and roasted boar."

"But wasn´t this why you came here? To claim glory?"

"Aye." Hjalmar admitted. "The Inquisitor promised us glory, and we´ve gotten it." Hjalmar glanced over at his brothers but let his eyes rest on Tor for moment longer than the others. "Still bloody eager."

"He listened to me after loosing his arm."

Hjalmar shock his head. "Tor has always been a blue-boy. Doesn't seem to matter how many times he´s reminded of it. I´d thought that he´d have learned something by now. But he´ll just toss it off." There was a hint of bitterness in Hjalmar´s voice, even if he tried to conceal it.

"In a way, its admirable." Emma said. "That he is so careless of the dangers he constantly faces. That he so bravely charges forth to serve the Imperium and the Emperor´s will."

Hjalmar looked at Emma and grinned slightly. "I thought you´d taken an oath not to tell lies."

"Did you see me blush?"

"Heard you stuttering." He gave her a light slap on the shoulder. "But I still like it."

Emma smiled and looked back her sisters. Right there, in the first line of the Talon´s company, was Johana. She smiled upon seeing her sister, and Emma tried to return the gesture but was only meet by a haze of confusion. Johana had returned to her after the battle, after Emma had relived her of her oath.

"I am here to return your sword," Johana said when she entered the tent. Emma took the freshly crafted blade in her hand. It felt heavy, like a raw slab of iron. "and to accept your offer." Johana finished.

Emma blinked a few times, her expression shifting a little each time she opened her eyes. "What offer?"

"To become your sister superior." Johana said nonchalantly.

"But what about your other oath?"

"It has no meaning to me anymore, my palatine." Johana said the words with such sincerity that Emma wondered if she was dreaming. "My only wish is to serve you."

A thousand emotions rippled through her body. Everything from disarray at what Johana was saying to anger that she didn´t change her mind sooner but, in the end, it settled on simple relief. "I accept your decision."

Johana kneeled, and Emma drew the sword.

"In the name of the Emperor," Emma grasped the blade with both hands. "Master and Protector of Mankind, I ascend you, Johana of the Talons, to Sister Superior of the Talons. Now rise."

Johana rose and threw herself into Emma´s arms. For a flash, Emma was scared that Johana was going to kiss her again. Her sister wrapped her arms around her.

"Thank you." Johana whispered into Emma´s ear.

Was Johana happy because she was relieved of her oaths? Was it because of the injures from the battle? Was it because she saw a chance to ascend after all? Or was it something else that caused her to change her mind?

 _Does it matter?_ Emma pulled Johana tight.

Emma looked back at her sister again. Now she smiled with ease. She took a long breath, letting the smell of flower petals fill her sense. She was about to walk back up into formation when Hjalmar stopped her.

"You wouldn´t happened to know where the Inquisitor´s run of to?" He asked.

"No." Emma answered. He´d disappeared again after the battle outside Mountbatten. And every day on their travel to the Capital, Emma´s frustration grew. He knew her secret, and he could spill it at any time. It constantly maddened her, though compared to her other emotions, this was just a timid wind.

"With any luck, he´s run of and left this system." Hjalmar said.

Emma shock her head. "He´s ship´s still in orbit. And even then, he has the hostages of all the noble families from Molncel." _All except one._ Emma spared Serena a thought and recalled that Derik had her sent to the Capital. Perhaps there was a chance she would see her again.

"Ah, bugger." Hjalmar grunted. He looked upwards until the point of the gears in his armor started buzzing with complaints. "How much longer until we reach the top?"

Emma shrugged. "There are still hundreds of levels until we reach the middle section. Then it's another three hundred before we reach the high cathedral. Until then I suppose you better try and enjoy yourself."

"Allfather bless my journey." Hjalmar grunted.

* * *

Corey watched the parade through his cam-feed in the meeting chamber. He chewed his finger nervously as he stared forward unblinkingly.

"I thought I told you to have the wolves sent away." Conrad said, breaking his concentration.

"They must have misunderstood our message. High Gothic can be difficult for these savages." Corey toke what little satisfaction he could from it.

Conrad narrowed his eyes. Corey paid him little mind.

He still had no idea where the Inquisitor was or if he had a plan. Because Corey had none. He had no way to get into the high cathedral without Alfred explicitly ordering it.

"It would appear that the Imperial Guard regiments also did not understand the orders you were supposed to send them." Baldwick said. "Would you care to explain your actions?"

"The Imperial Guard where just as crucial in taking down House Mountbatten as the Space Wolves. I only think of it as justice for them to have the same glory as the Sisters of the Hawk."

In the birth-cradle of Humanity, in the center of the Imperium, on holy Terra herself, everyone is a ruthless and ambitious liar. Some would claim that Terra might be the most dangerous place in the galaxy. It was with this in mind that Corey thought about his own planet and the situation he found himself in.

 _I´ve never been a good lair. Couldn´t even lie to my maiden to be allowed to skip brushing my teeth. They will have seen the truth in what I said. And judge me for it._

Conrad rose from his chair. "Do you know what my duty is, general?"

 _Doesn´t matter what you are. You´ll be dead soon, along with everyone in this city._ "You´re the High Judge and the maker of justice in our system."

"Do you know how many liars is see every day?"

Corey sighed heavily. What difference would any of it make? Conrad could smell lies like a dog could smell blood. But then he saw something, a glimmer of grim humor in the situation.

"You are still perfectly welcome to tell the wolves about this when they reach the cathedral." Corey said with flickering grin. "I´m sure they´ll be understanding of the fact that you wish them of this planet."

"Savor your sarcasm, general." Conrad said. "You´ll need it for your trial."

Corey just rose from his chair and made his way to the exit.

"Where are you going, general?" Conrad asked.

"To my chambers." Corey swung the door open. "I´ll be there if you need me."

The walk back to his chamber wasn´t long. Just a few hab-blocks with the arbites escorting him. But as he walked along the streets, the people the cheering and screaming in anticipation for the coming parade, he began to see the twisted sense to Alfred´s plan. They truly where the most reverent they could be now. From the lowest criminal to the richest noble, they all roared in anticipation of seeing the heroes of the war returning.

Looking up, he could see the High Cathedral. He imagined what Alfred was doing right now. _Probably holding his breath in anticipation._ How could this be the Emperor´s will? That everyone who served him loyally should be burned alive the same promethium that was used to purge heresy. _In the land of the mad, the sane man is truly a fool._

It took him longer than he had anticipated, but when he got to his chamber, Serena was meeting him at the door.

"My general." She was dressed in a long dress made out of shinning, dark crimson fabric and smiled with warm red, lips as her hair spilled from her shoulders.

"Serena…" Corey tossed his coat aside and was about to throw his arms around her, when a hand landed firmly on his shoulder.

"Lord Ironfield." Said a voice that he struck a memory. He turned and was meet by Garviol.

"What do you want, serf?"

"Stop a catastrophe." Garviol pulled his hood and revealed his face. It made Corey smile, and Serena frown.

"Derik?" Corey said with a stutter. "Derik Horst?"

"Inquisitor Derik Horst." Serena filled in.

* * *

"You got that right." Derik said as he checked the weapons he had hidden under his robes. A simple short sword and a boltpistol.

"But…" Corey stammered. "Why didn´t you reveal yourself sooner?"

Derik threw a look a Serena. _Because of her. Because little Lady Blois has managed to get closer to you then I ever anticipated or wanted. I´ll have to deal with that later though._

"I had to wait for a good moment." Derik said. "Like you said, Alfred has eyes and ears everywhere. Truth be told I would have done it later, but it seems things have processed quicker than I thought." He activated a wall-mounted cogitator and displayed a feed of the parade moving through the streets. "What level are they on?"

Corey hurried over and looked at the number of the cam-feed. "Level six hundred forty-six." He made a quick count. "They´re past the middle section."

"We need to get to the high cathedral." Derik said.

Corey nodded in agreement. "Alfred´s probably waiting for them to reach it before he releases the promethium."

Shock hit him like a hammer. Derik casted a quick look at Serena. And felt like he was about to punch Corey in the face. _You idiot. Now she knows._

"But we can´t enter." Corey said. "Not unless Alfred orders me to come be with him, no one is allowed within the High Cathedral."

"Dammit." The sensation to hit something was almost overpowering him. Words, ideas and images flashed through his head. He looked at Serena. "Does anyone know that she is here?"

"Not apart from those who saw me." Serena said.

"Do they know your name?" Derik asked Serena now. "Which family you belong to?"

"No, Inquisitor." She said. "I´ve been inside this chamber the whole time, transcribing messages for you."

 _And making sure that Corey doesn´t get any lonely nights._ "Good. You´re now named Alvina of House Joano." Derik pulled the name from an ancient Terran house famous for their loyalty and numerous siblings. It would not sound strange if they had one of their daughters had landed here. "You will follow Corey up to the High Cathedral and claim that you whish to pray at their altar."

"Do you think that will be enough to convince him?" Corbey asked. "Alfred´s never been one who likes being disturbed when he prays."

"Just say what I tell you to say." Derik turned to Serena. "That goes for both of you."

"Fine." She said.

"And what about you?" Corey asked.

Derik pulled his hood up. "I´m coming with you."

* * *

"How many levels are there left now?" Hjalmar asked with a grunt.

"We´re past the halfway point." Emma replied.

Hjalmar sighed from deep in his throat.

"Are you tired?" It was common knowledge that the Space Marines were super-human beings. Their strength, speed and durability were beyond anything a human could ever hope to achieve. Soo seeing the old wolf heavy his breath like a tired old man was strange to Emma. Even if she was ready to take a pause for breath as well.

"Nah." Hjalmar replied. "It's not the length of it that's haggering me. It´s just bloody boring. Plus, there´s something about this city that's eating at my senses. I wanna be back on _Winter´s Wrath_. There we can truly feast and celebrate our victory."

"It does sound better than this." Emma stared up the petals being tossed into the air, they sank slowly downwards from a distance, the pink, red and black petals fell drifted through the air. The pink and red ones looked like shavings of flesh, the black ones looked like burned cinders, the green ones had the shine of raindrops in sunshine. Then she looked at those on the ground, stomped and trembled under the boots of her sisters, the wolves and herself. Whatever beauty they might have once hold was pushed out of them, only flattened ugly carcasses remained.

"Do you ever miss Fenris?" Emma asked.

"All the time." Hjalmar said. "We haven´t been back there for some time."

"You´re not going back after this, are you?"

"No." Hjalmar said. He raised a brow. "You seem to have an awfully long face. Shouldn´t you be happy that the war is over, and you are back in the capital?"

"The war is never over, and only in death does our duty end. If the Inquisitor is right, there may be an even greater war to come."

"Just make sure that the Allfather is proud of you by the end of it."

"Do you think He is proud of you?" Emma asked softly. Not that she excepted Hjalmar to take any offence.

"I have performed my duty as a Space Wolf for dozens of centuries. I´ve trained hundreds of brothers and butchered thousands upon thousands of enemies to the Imperium. It´s far more than any mortal could dream of and more than most of my brothers could hope for." Hjalmar´s grey eyes became grim. "Yet, it bears me to admit a certain shame about my most resent hunt."

"What happened?"

Hjalmar lifted his thick nostrils and snorted. "It's a gloomy tale, and I think my mood has soured the pot enough already." He put his hand on Emma´s shoulder. "Come now. Enjoy yourself. You´ve earned it, Terminator-Slayer."

Emma lifted the corners of her mouth for Hjalmar.

"Perhaps I should add Knight-Bane to your titels as well."

"I didn´t take that one down." Emma looked forward. "Galatea did."

"The Terminator-Slayer and the Knight-Bane." Hjalmar laughed softly in warm tone. "The Allfather will definitely be proud of your achievements. And if your cardinal doesn´t throw himself to the floor to bow before the two of you, I´ll toss the bugger of the cathedral so far that he´ll be found outside the city walls."

Emma couldn´t help but giggle. There was little chance of the Cardinal actually throwing himself to the floor unless it was the Emperor himself had risen from his throne and was stood before him. At most he might perform the slightest nod towards the heroes of the war. Some of her other sisters might have been alarmed by what Hjalmar said, but Emma saw the humor brightly, and laughed.

* * *

He chewed on his nails with one hand while fiddling with a fist-sized cogitator with the other. He wore a simple vox-bead beneath his hood. It had a short range, but it was very accurate and produced minimal distortion.

 _I must make sure to thank Tayber for his work on these._ Derik thought. He sat at behind the young general and Lady Blois as they hovered above the spires of the Capital. He would have wanted to sit next to Corey, but suspicion was the last thing he wanted to arouse now. He had given both Serena and Corey their own vox-beads that they planted in their ears. They were small, no larger than peas. This made it possible for Derik to have ears with the pair at all times. Still this wasn´t enough of security for Derik.

 _I can´t reach her yet._ The cogitator could sense the signal but could establish a connection. _Even if I could, its not a good idea to contact her yet. I need to wait until she´s close and can move away from her sisters without too many questions._ While this did trouble him, it was little compared to what he might have to do to make sure that Emma would come for him. _I´ve gained control over the vox-caster. For the Emperor´s sake I hope she obeys without question._

"How much longer?" Serena asked.

"We´ll be there soon." Corey said with a trembling voice.

 _He´s a terrible actor._ Derik buried his hands in his face and rubbed his eyes. "How long will it take the them before they reach the cathedral?" Derik whispered into the vox-bead he had sewn into his hood.

"Another hour maybe." Corey´s reply came in a soft whisper though Derik was almost certain that Serena was listening.

 _I´ll have to send her before the sisters when this is done._

They landed a few minutes later on the cathedral´s dock. Like the last time Derik was there, two sisters in white came to meet them.

One of them came up before the other. "Greetings, general Ironfield." A sister with purple eyes said.

Derik recognized her and saw a grim irony. _Its been a long time, sister._ He said to himself. _You might just have your whish granted and see the Emperor´s Angels._

"Greetings, sister of the Cathedral." Corey replied as he performed a bow. Serena followed the gesture and Derik hurried to repeat them.

"This is Alvina," Corey took Serena by the hand and brought her forth. "Of house Joano. She has come to be blessed by our High Cardinal and Governor, Alfred Derus."

"I am afraid that cannot be done." The sister answered. "The Cardinal is in prayer and does not whish to be disturbed."

Derik whispered the words into his hood. "Repeat what I say."

"I don´t think you understand." Corey said. "House Joano is one of the most venerated houses within the Imperium. They have served, aided and supported troops of the Salamanders, the Blood Angels and the Ultramarines more times than any other house in the Imperium. Turning one of them down on the chance to be blessed would not just be a grave insult but borderline heretical."

Though only her eyes could be seen through the hood, Derik could see them turning pale. She was about to raise her hand but was stopped when the other sister came forth.

"General Ironfield." She said before turning to Serena.

"Lady Alvina of house Joano. I have come to your cathedral to be blessed by the High Cardinal." Serena said it with enough endearment that could have fooled Derik had he not known better.

"And who is this serf?" The sisters asked.

"Garviol." Corey said. "He is my scribe serf."

The sister looked Derik up and down. "I don´t see either quill or parchment on him."

"He has sharp memory." Serena said. "You could ask him how many times I sipped my morning tea last week and he´ll have it down to the number."

"How many times did she?" The sister asked Derik.

"Fourteen, sister." Derik replied in the dry voice and stiff manner that would fit a serf of his status.

The sister looked at Derik, and he could see her eyes searching.

"I do love to savor my tea." Serena stepped in front of the sister. "But I not enjoy being stalled. I am allowed to enter the cathedral, or should I take the insult and leave?"

"Come with me." The sister said after a moment of silence. "I am not sure of the cardinal will see you, but I can at the very least not let you wait out here."

As they entered the cathedral and walked through the halls, Derik made sure to keep his eyes to the ground and his hood pulled forward. He couldn´t risk any of the sisters of serfs that would have been there last time recognize him.

The sister led them to the same hall that Derik was excepted to wait in last time and sat them down. "I will return when I know if the cardinal can receive you."

Corey was quick to pray once the sister had left. Serena joined him as she occasionally stared up at the roof painting.

"A magnificent piece." Serena said.

"It is." Corey agreed. He looked at Derik with troubled eyes. Did he want to share his worries about the state of their plan or did he want to ask for forgiveness for letting Serena get so close to him that Derik didn´t dare to reveal himself until now?

Derik hoped for the later, but he knew that wasn´t it and that made him bite down on the inside of his cheek until it broke.

The sister returned, with two others following her. One of them was another sister with a book hanging from her waist in a chain. The other was a tech-priest. A large one, who walked forward on four needle tipped legs.

"Sister." Corey said. "Lepario Domani." He said to the tech-priest. "Has Alfred decided if he will receive Lady Joano?"

"He has." The tech-priest said with tone that was unmistakably smugness.

"He will receive both you, and Lady Joano." The sister said. "But the serf will remain here."

Derik came close to screaming. If it weren´t for the fact that his face was hidden by the hood, everyone would have seen his features turning red.

 _Does he know I´m here?_ He reached for his hood and was about to whisper into the vox-bead but stopped himself. _The tech-priest might have enhancements to his earing. He might even have augmentations that allowed for vox-stealing._

Derik lifted his gaze slightly and saw Corey staring at him. He gave the young general a quick nod.

"This is fine." Corey said.

Serena and Corey left Derik without another word, tech-priest Domani and the sisters following them.

* * *

"Finally." Hjalmar said. "I can see the Cathedral."

Emma looked towards where Hjalmar was looking but couldn´t make out the spires that made out the Cathedral. She knew there where hardly more than ten levels left but the peaks of the Capital still reached high. Rather than ask, she just assumed that Hjalmar saw it because he wanted to.

She rubbed her sore legs. "It has been a tough climb."

"It´ll be good to end it with a celebration of drink and food." Hjalmar said.

Recalling how the wolves feasted on board _Winter´s Wrath_ in preparation for a battle, and how they feasted after winning one, Emma tried picturing how they feasted after ending a war.

She imagined rivers of mead running from tankards with smashed tops. Gnawed meaty bones flying through the air. She imagined the sounds. The roars of laughter coming of every wolf, the cracks of bones being cracked between their jaws and the wet squishing of fruits being crushed for juice in their armored fingers. The scent of it all mixing into a strangely intoxicating fume. It was an image that made her smile as much as it filled her stomach with ice.

"Will you join us for our feast, Emma?" Hjalmar asked. "I´ll have my brothers cook the biggest stakes we can find and I´ll let you drink till you fall over. I´ll also let you eat until you think your stomach is going to burst."

"It would be an honor."

"Make it a joy and I´ll be happy."

"I´ll make a feast I´ll never recall." Emma said.

"Har!" Hjalmar threw his head back. He hurried forward and raised his axe. He howled enough to drown out the roars of the crowds. His brothers joined him as they started pounding their fists into their chest-plates.

" _Emma._ " Voice came in through the vox Emma had in her armor´s gorget. It was cracked by disruption, but Emma could make out that it was a man´s voice.

"Who is this?"

" _Derik. But don´t tell anyone that it's me. I have secret orders for you._ "

Everything she heard made Emma´s fist tighten. "And why should I?"

She heard the Inquisitor sighing. " _Emma, I have control over the city´s vox-speakers. If you don´t do as I tell you, I will broadcast your secret. There won´t be a single soul in the Capital that doesn´t know of it._ "

Curses and rants boiled behind her lips. If Derik had been here, in front of her, Emma would have beaten him into the ground until he stopped moving. She felt her fists shacking with rage and her cheeks warming. She took a slow breath and vented a small fraction of the rage by slamming her fist into her palm.

"What do you want me to do?"

" _For now? Nothing. Follow your sisters and act like nothing is happening. But when you come close to the Cathedral I want you to tell me. And if there are any developments I want to you tell me immediately."_

"What developments?"

" _Just tell me if something happens._ "

" _Fine._ " The word passed Emma´s lips with a sharp sting. She closed the link and pushed thick, seething breaths through her nose.

 _What in the Emperor´s name does he want?_

To stop her anger from showing, Emma let her mind wonder. She thought back to the first time she made this walk. It was when she was taking her oath to become a Sister of the Hawk. The trial was to make it from the base of the Capital to the Cathedral at the top before sundown. They started at sunrise. She remembered there were at least ten other sisters with her that day. By the time the sun was staring directly down on their heads, only three remained. The others had disappeared. It was then that Emma knew. This wasn´t a trial of speed or durability, it was trial for survival and determination. By simply sitting down or pausing for breath, they failed.

 _This,_ Emma thought then. _Is when the true believers are plucked from those who lack fate._

Emma looked to her side and pictured herself back then. When she was just tall enough reach up to her mother's shoulders. A ghost that ran past.

 _My son._ Emma prayed. _Your mother has come far, but she still has some way to go. Just wait, I´ll be there quicker than you think._

* * *

It was difficult to make out anything that was said. Even as Derik listened carefully while sitting in the corner of the hall, all he could make out where short, incoherent words.

 _The tech-priest must be using a scrambler or something similar._ Derik suspected.

He reached into his robes. The weapons where were he left them. The boltpistol at his right, the short sword at his left. His hands slowly drew back and grasped his arm.

 _The Emperor was willing to do many things to safeguard mankind, and they say I am an agent of his will. Perhaps I need to cast the same things aside as he did._

Someone entered the chamber.

Derik rose from his seat. It was the younger sister who had entered. She closed the door behind her and locked it with a set of iron keys she held in her hand.

He walked up to her.

"Sister." Derik hid is emotions behind a vail of a soft and distant tone. "How goes things for my master?"

"Slow." She answered. "Captain Corey hasn´t explained why Lady Joano has come here. And while I don´t like her much myself, my cardinal seems to have taken an interest in her. When he saw her, he wished to take her for a personal confession."

"Thank you, sister." Derik glanced down at the keys. "Would you join me for a prayer in this great hall?"

"I have duties."

"But the timing couldn´t be better. The parade is coming close to reaching the Cathedral, when will a better time arise to come so close to the Emperor´s light? Come now, sister. It will not take long. The only verses I know are short and simple. It will only take me a minute to perform them."

"You are a strange serf." The sister said. "But you are also right, there is no better time to make sure that the Emperor knows our prayers are with him. Come. I shall teach you some of the lengthier verses."

The two of them sat down before the altar. It was grand thing. A statue of the Emperor made of white marble crowning a winged woman.

"Who is she?" Derik asked as he tried to determine where the sister kept the keys.

"She is the martyred Lady who ascended us." The sisters said. "I´m about to start, so pay attention."

That´s when Derik noticed them. At her waist, close to her back was were the keys. They where all in a metal ring and tied to her waist.

" _Fire!_ " Emma´s voice shouted in the vox-bead. _"Burning promethium is coming from funnels on every spire!"_

* * *

The crowds still roared before it happened. They threw their petals and cheered. It was a great day for them.

Emma looked up and saw the Cathedral in front of them. She was just about to hurry and join her palatine sisters when it started.

A scream, sharp yet small. Almost strangled by the audience, but Emma heard it and noticed Hjalmar pausing to listen as well.

Then it came. Pouring out from vents, gold and wrapped in flames, the promethium spilled out over the streets, into the alleys and down into depths between the spires. Those that where caught in its way burned within seconds. Their skin seared and cracked as it turned black and smoking flesh started peeking out. Those trapped by it struggled for breath in the shimmering air birthed by the flames.

Panic gripped its cold hand around Emma´s throat. She drew her sword and looked for an enemy. Her palatine sisters readied their own weapons. Sophia´s blades extended before she leaped of the ground with her jump pack, followed by three sisters from the Wings.

Galatea wasn´t carrying her heavy bolter. Rather she was using a regular bolter that she raised to aim. Anna freed her own blade without letting go of the banner.

"What is happening?" Hjalmar shouted. He was running back to the sisters, axe drawn and shield on his arm.

There was no answer to the question beyond what they saw. Golden promethium, the most refined formula of promethium their mechanicus forges could produce, was being poured over them.

Emma recalled the Maiden´s last words. " _You will_ _rise and burn._ " _Is this what she prophesized?_

Was this the repentance for her sins? Was this the Emperor punishing her for her actions? Ice shot through Emma´s heart like a spear. The scolding air was sucked into her lungs. It brought her down as she struggled for breath.

She was about to hit the ground when Hjalmar grabbed her by the stomach and pulled her to her feet.

"Put your helmet on!" He said, and Emma hastily threw her helmet on. The cogitator flashed a red rune in warning, and her hair got between in the helmet´s seal, but it filtered the air and made it breathable.

"Is there an attack?" Hjalmar put himself at the front and pressed a rune on his storm-shield to activate its barrier.

"I don´t know." Emma said. The flames were coming from everywhere. Spraying from muzzles placed along the walls of every tower and spire, the promethium spread like rain with every shimmering drop being engulfed in bright flames.

 _The Inquisitor._ Though she did not want to, she open the channel and shouted into the vox.

* * *

A wash of half frozen water ran under Derik´s skin. It must have showed. The sister looked at him with confused eyes.

There was no time to be careful. He reached for the keychain around her waist and tried to pull it from her. But it was tied harder than Derik had excepted. He just ended up pulling the sister closer, and she started struggling.

"Get your hands of those!" She shrieked as she grappled with Derik. "Hel-"

The boltpistol kicked harder than he had anticipated. The force of it came close to knocking it out of his hand. But it was not what caused him to drop it.

Her eyes were wide and cold. They sank down to the growing crimson stain on her chest as she slowly went limp in Derik´s arms. Her hand sank down across his shoulder.

She was heavy. So heavy...

 _Get up._

He picked the boltpistol of the floor.

 _Forgive me, sister._ Derik closed her eyes.

"Emma." Derik spoke through the vox.

" _What is happening?_ " Her voice was sharp with terror.

"Gather your most trusted sisters and head for the Cathedral. Make sure no one else comes with you."

" _What?_ "

"Alfred has lost his mind. He´s trying to burn everyone in the city alive."

Derik reached into his robes to draw his short blade when he felt something wet on his fingers. It was blood. Her still warm, sticky blood.

He pushed the robe aside and drew the sword but stopped himself once the blade was halfway released.

 _Keys. I need the keys._

He hurried up to the door and fumbled with the keys before finding the one that would fit. He turned it so quick it bended. He flung the door open and ran. He was quickly meet with another hall. He saw two hooded sisters, and Corey. He was bloody and beaten with his hands chained behind his back. Of Serena and Alfred, he saw no sign.

One of the sisters was holding a red-glowing branding iron. In the shape of the Imperial Aquila, they were about to press it against Corey´s naked chest when they noticed Derik. They saw the blood on his robes and the sister holding the iron charged.

Derik raised the boltpistol and shoot once.

The shell broke through her mouth and shattered her teeth before exploding inside her head. In a flash, her head disappeared.

The other sister stared at it with eyes that fit a pale face. She glanced down at her sister and at the branding iron.

"Don´t." Derik quietly begged as he shook his head.

The sister ran for the iron, and Derik fired again. He missed the first time and the shell tore a wide hole in the marble wall. The second hit. It slammed into her side as she reached for the iron. She hit the ground as her innards spilled over the marble floor.

Derik ran up to Corey and freed him. The young general feel to the ground as soon as the cuff was unlocked. He seemed faint. Derik turned him over and gave him a few hard slaps to bring life back to him.

"Hey!" Derik shouted. "Wake up!"

Corey´s eyes flung open as if he had been woken from a nightmare. He gasped for air as sweat made his skin shine.

"Where is Alfred?" Derik asked.

Corey opened his mouth, and Derik a short, blood soaked pink stump peeking out of his throat.

 _They cut of his tongue._ Derik realized. "Can you walk?" He asked as he lifted Corey up. Once the young general was up on his legs, he nodded. He waved for Derik to follow him.

The young general had claimed he could walk, but that was generous of him. He stumbled and limped with every step, forcing Derik to always be at his side and lift him up. The effort of it tired both quickly. They only went down a few corridors, but it seemed like run that lasted far longer.

Finally, Corey stopped before the door at the end of a long and tall hallway. He slammed the door so hard that it echoed. Derik was quick to bring out the keys and find one that fit.

Invigorated, the young general rushed in before Derik had a chance to open the door fully.

Derik let go of the key ring and drew his short sword.

He found Alfred in plain sight. He was standing before a cogitator shrine, humming prayers. Serena was next to him, sitting on her knees while the tech-priest jittered next to the Cardinal. The moment Serena saw Corey, she ran for him.

Alfred turned and stared directly in the eye, and then saw Corey. "You coward!" Screamed the cardinal. "You have your servant tear you from the sisters who want to help you!" He ran. He was quicker than Derik expected and pushed Serena aside with a strike from his hand. The tech-priest tried to run but the Inquisitor was quick to shoot. He hit the tech-priest and the back.

Then Alfred was on Corey. He wrapped his slender fingers around the young general´s throat and squeezed.

"You will not stop the _purging_!"

Serena tried to get Alfred of Corey, but he just kicked her away.

"They will be cleansed!"

The sword slipped in his hand as he struck. The broadside of it came down on Alfred´s back. The blade gave him a hard strike but did little to cut through or get him to let go of Corey. Derik turned it and buried the blade into Alfred´s chest.

He seemed to freeze once the sword was through him. Turning his head slowly, he stared at Derik. "….Inquisitor… you fool."

Corey pushed the body of himself and Derik ran up to the shrine. The displays and data feeds all showed the promethium being spewed out on all over the city. He grabbed Lepario and pinned him to the ground.

"How do I stop it!?"

The tech-priest chuckled code in response.

Derik pressed the muzzle of the boltpistol against Lepario´s neck. "If you don´t tell me, I´ll blow wat´s left of your brain all over the shrine!"

A jittering arm pointed to a lever on the consol.

"Is that it?" Derik raised.

"Yes, inquisitor." Lepario´s voice artificial voice was filled with grim satisfaction, but Derik believed him.

He pulled the lever and watched all the values sink with the tech-priest.

"Corey," Derik pulled of his hood. "Can you still walk?"

Silence was the only answer.

"Corey?" Derik looked over his shoulder, but the young general was gone, along with Little Lady Blois.

 _Damn. I´ll have to-_

" _Aaaaaaaiiieeeeeeee!_ _Sisters save us, the madman is in there!_ "

Derik sank down next to the shrine. He whipped the sweet of his forehead and waited. He could hear their stomping boots coming closer. They were just outside the room.

"Em…"

Through red eye-lenses, the winged palatine stared at Alfred´s body and her claws came to life with screaming lightning. "You… _HERETIC_!"

 _ **Authors note**_

 _Greetings dear readers. It has now been a year since I planted the seed of the Black Rose. It has grown since then. Larger and wilder than I ever imagined. Some flowers grew in directions I wasn´t sure of where they would grow, others took long to bloom. And some have been cut. Yet they all grew around the frame I set down around it. It's just that sometimes the branches grow in directions I didn´t quiet see coming. Some twist around and wrap themselves close to ones that were on the far side of the frame, others appear as small sprouts only to bloom into thorny flowers with their own shade of black that overshadow others. But regardless of how the wind blows or how hard the rain pours, I will still tend to my rose bush. Even if it has yet to reach the top of the frame, and I don´t think it will not for some time. Its takes care and patience to make sure it reaches the top. Until then, dear readers, I will leave you with some words for the future; Dark wings wrapped in black flames cast great shadows._


	59. Chapter 56

The black rose chapter 56

"By the Allfathers voice…"

Spires and towers had become twisted, hunched things. Like half melted candles, they bent like they were bowing before an unseen master. The metal groaned and trembled as black rain started pouring. To some eyes it looked like a shiver, as if it was freezing in the downpour. Scents hung in the air. The stench of burning flesh, the odor of dried promethium and the smell of blackened ash.

"What happened?" Hjalmar finished.

The sky cracked thunderously in response. Rather than the cheers and bellows from before, screams and shrieks traveled between the streets. Those that were safe sat still in silence, relieved that they were still alive. Though to Hjalmar´s ears, he could hear them whisper prayers.

He looked to his brothers and the sisters. They shared the same silence.

"Tor! Aigor!" Hjalmar shouted sternly. "Count everyone and make sure those who are unharmed are helping the civilians."

"Aye." Tor and Aigor ran back the line.

"Galatea." Hjalmar was about to grab the palatine´s arm when she stopped him with an open palm and stoic face.

"Emma." He shook her.

She seemed lucid.

"Are you alright?" Hjalmar gave her another shake.

Emma staggered to her knees. Hjalmar was about to lift her up when Johana came running to help her sister.

"I´ll help her." Johana said.

"You sure?"

"I´ll take care of her." Her voice was sharpened by anger. "Go and look after your brothers."

Hjalmar took a few steps back and prepared to follow his brothers down the line.

"Wait." Galatea stopped him. "Where is Sophia?"

"She…" Emma said. "She took to the air. She must be in the High Cathedral. The Inquisitor…"

"Emma," Galatea took a firm grip on Emma´s shoulder. "What happened?"

"I don´t know." Emma shook her head. "I-" Her gaze froze on the High Cathedral. Hjalmar heard her heart pause only to jolt alive a second later.

"What in the…?"

Six Sisters of the Wings paraded out of the Cathedral. Sophia was in the center. She held a banner pole on her hands. A banner pole mounted by the naked, crucified body of Inquisitor Derik Horst.

" _Behold!_ " Sophia bellowed with the volume of her voice amplified by the vox-grill." _The Inquisitor who slew our Holy Cardinal. Behold the corruption of the Emperor´s will! Behold the Emperor´s wrath brought down upon him!_ "

 _The Inquisitor…_ Hjalmar thought. _Murdered the Cardinal?_

The Sisters of the Wings marched forth. Derik´s corpse was painted red by blood that dripped down through long, thin fingers on the street. The only way Hjalmar could be certain it was the Inquisitor was because of his scent. Even if it was almost drowned by ash, blood and contents of entrails.

"Is it really him?" Galatea asked.

"Aye, it's the Inquisitor alright."

"Why would he murder the Cardinal?"

"Because the Cardinal had gone mad." Emma said.

Galatea and Hjalmar looked at the Young Palatine.

"Before the fires started." Emma said. "The Inquisitor contacted me through a private vox-channel. He told me be on the watch. In case something would happen."

"Why didn´t you tell us?" Hjalmar raised a bushy brow.

"He warned me not to." Emma answered. There was something trembling in her voice, but Hjalmar brushed it of as shock. He found the whole ordeal rather baffling himself.

"When did he say that the Cardinal had gone mad?" Galatea asked.

"After the fires came." Emma removed her helmet. "He told me that Alfred had gone mad… that he was trying to burn the entire city alive."

 _Was he trying to safeguard this city?_ Hjalmar looked up at the body hanging from Sophia´s banner. _Emma wasn´t lying, but was he telling her the truth? Was he trying to save us?_ Hjalmar battled with the thought.

Sophia stopped before her palatine sisters. Hjalmar stood between them. Johana was at Emma´s side.

The Wing Palatine´s claws were retracted but her fingers shifted. She took the banner in both hands, raised it, and skewered the point of it into the rockcrete. The body was rattled hard as tendrils and muscles snapped. It hanged so loose it threatened to drop.

Sophia took a step forward. "Look at him." She pointed. "He murdered our Cardinal. This is the fate that begets heretics."

"What are you suggesting?" Johana stepped forth, one hand on her sword.

Emma put her hand up before of her sister. "Where did you find him?"

"Before the cogitator shrine at the center of the Cathedral." Sophia answered.

Emma exchanged a look with Hjalmar and Galatea.

"Let the Arbites have a look at this." Galatea said.

"Why?"

"Why?" Galatea asked with frown. "I don´t know if you noticed, Sophia, but the city was almost drenched in burning promethium. If what Emma was told is true, then your actions may not have been as just as you think."

Sophia glared at Emma. "You honestly believe that the Fool could be tell anything that resembles truth?"

Emma scoffed. "You are right, Sophia. I am a fool. And perhaps you should act with more consideration around me. As you should know yourself, fools are always eager to perform bold, stupid deeds."

Sophia´s claws leaped out of their gauntlets, crackling and screaming.

Johana drew her own sword. Emma joined her.

They only had time to stare at each other before Hjalmar raised his axe. All it took was one growl from him to get Sophia to back down.

"Send in the Arbites." Galatea stepped in between them. Her boltgun mag-locked to her thigh. "Once they have performed a thorough search we can find out what happened her."

"We´ll truly see who the fool is." Sophia said.

* * *

 _Bloody mess._ Borto thought as he waddled through the mixture of blood and whatever the black fluid was that tech-priests used as substitute.

"Found anything on the cam-feeds?" He asked, Gabri, his fellow officer.

"Cam-feeds?" He said with a laugh. "The Cardinal never allowed such things to be placed in the inner sanctum of the Cathedral."

"So only have the witness statement of Palatine Sophia and the other sisters that were here."

"That´s right."

"And they all claimed to have found Alfred´s body in this room with the Inquisitor resting by the cogitator shrine with the Cardinal´s blood all over his robes." The fabric was still there in the room. It had been savagely torn apart by Sophia´s claws before she stripped him of it.

"It´s a bit strange, don´t you think?" Gabri said. "That an Inquisitor was wearing simple serf robes when he was marching through the Capital."

"Maybe." Borto puzzled for a moment. "If I remember the records correctly, it was stated by the Cardinal himself that the Inquisitor was not welcome back into the Capital, but I´m not sure."

"If that´s true, then the Inquisitor may have tried infiltrating the Capital. Maybe that´s why he wore the serf robes."

"Think that was his plan? To get close and kill the Cardinal?" It seemed strange, and there where parts of it that troubled Borto. The story the Palatine of the Talons shared did seem to fit. But it did not fill every hole. Borto couldn´t help but wonder if the result wasn´t for the better. He admired Alfred once, but that was some time ago. When he was more Governor than Cardinal. When he treated the role of High Cardinal of the Imperial Faith as more of a side manner to his main duty. But as the man grew older his paranoia and delusions grew. The lack of cam-feeds was not the only thing that Borto had warned him of. The fact that he refused to have guards posted in the High Cathedral always bothered him more than anything else.

 _Even the Emperor had his custodians._ Borto thought bitterly. _Perhaps it is for the better that the Inquisitor killed him._ The thought struck a raw nerve. _Or perhaps it will be for the worse. My duty is only to determine what happened here._

"So?" Gabri asked. "Do you think that was his plan?"

"No, I don´t that was his plan to begin with." Borto went over the bodies. Heaving, he turned Leparios Domai´s body over. The tech-priest immediately started blurting code.

" _Purg- Brrrrrrr- Cle-"_

"Send in the repair-servitors." Borto said. "See if they can´t extract some sense from this broken bastard." He knew his name full well. He had meet him a few times before and always found his obsession with machines and promethium to be equally fascinating and repulsive. But he found his arrogance and general smugness quickly overshadow everything else about him. Especially since the tech-priest had a habit of raising his hydraulically powered legs to make himself taller than everyone else.

 _Those legs will be difficult to repair. Maybe he´ll learn some humility from it._

The servitors came rushing in a few moments after Garbi left. They quickly went to work with buzzing drills and purring gears. The only of them capable of producing speech said that the repairs would take some time. When Borto asked how long, the servitor answered; "Hours."

While they waited, Borto reached into his pockets and stuffed a fat chunk of chew-baco up his lip. The bitter taste of the dry leave was just touching his tongue when he realized something. "Didn´t one of the sisters say that they saw someone leaving the room before they entered?"

Garbi went over his notes. "Yes. A young woman in a red dress and man bare-chested."

"And now they are both gone." Borto chewed on the leaf and stared at sparks leaping of Leparios´ body as the servitors worked on him. "But he might know of them."

The hours passed slowly, but eventually the servitors dispersed and claimed that Leparios was now ready to speak.

"What happened here?" Borto asked.

The tech-priests eye lenses flickered. "The Cardinal was standing before the altar. He was accompanied by Lady Alvina of house Joano. We had left young general Ironfield with some of the sisters."

 _That might explain the two dead serf-sisters in the neighboring chamber._ "When did the Inquisitor enter?"

The tech-priest´s head jittered. "Six-two hours and four-five minutes ago."

Borto went through the numbers in his head. "Twenty-six hours and fifty-fours minutes ago?"

Leparios cursed in a burst of code and buzzing.

"Try that again. This time spare me the lies and your attempts at deceit." The frustrating thing about interrogating a tech-priest this heavily augmented, was that he had no way of readying anything resembling facial movements. Though he hardly ever been very good at it to begin with. _It´s always easier to push the truth than track it down._

"Nnnnghhh…" Leparios strained. "No lies. Errors."

"Are going to keep blame your machine parts or are you going to tell me the truth. If you don´t, I have means of extracting that information from the cores of your brain."

"Who is lying now, Arbiter?" If Leparios still had anything left of his face made of flesh, Borto was certain he would be grinning. "The Inquisitor entered at hours six-two and minute fifty-four."

Borto looked down at his watch. The time matched. "What happened before the Inquisitor entered?"

"The Cardinal was standing before the altar, making preparations for the arrival of the Sisters of the Hawk. Though seeing the Astra Militarum and the Vlka Fenryka march with them seemed to anger him."

"What about the flames? Do you have any idea where the burning promethium came from?"

Leparios fell silent.

"I would like to remind you that even if I may not be able to pick your brain apart, I can still smash what´s left of you with my maul." Borto rested his hand on the power-circuited mace he had strapped to his belt. "Don´t worry, I´ll make sure to leave your brain-case intact. I´ll keep it on my desk so you can silently watch me transcribe all the paperwork you have caused me." There was only a half-truth to that. Borto had hundreds of scribes at his disposal to help but after what had just happened, he couldn´t be sure of how many of them where still alive. Still, the idea of keeping Leparios´ brains in a jar was quiet appealing as a grim joke. Even if it was a joke he stole from Supreme Judge Conrad.

"I, and my mechanicus guild, were forced by the Cardinal to construct a massive web of pipes and funnels that would release promethium from the storages-"

"All across the city." Borto broke in. "Don´t lecture me on the city´s construction, we´ve had those tanks made decades ago. Why did he want it made?"

"He never shared his reasons with me. I was only given orders."

 _He´s trying to play the victim._ It was a common technique that Borto had seen many times before. It was usually a sad last measure some would try to use to escape blame and he mostly found it a drag to sit through. But, to see a tech-priest with a face that was more grill and metal attempting it was almost enough to bring a chuckle to Borto´s otherwise stone-firm face.

 _Spare all of it for Conrad. He´ll be the one to decide what becomes of everyone after the trail is over._


	60. Chapter 57

The black rose chapter 57

For the second time in just three days, the citizens of the Capital gathered outside the Cathedral. The difference being that this time, there far less of them, and those that came, were scarred and wounded. People with burns, people missing arms, people supporting themselves on crutches. To spot one that didn´t have any wounds was rare.

Emma looked over them and tried to smile but remembered that this was no time when a smile would be appreciated. She quickly corrected herself and returned her face to a solemn look that was much easier to maintain.

On her shoulder a fourth of the of the Cardinal´s funeral pyre pressed down. She was in the front corner, Anna was at the other side, one shoulder carrying the pyre, the other holding the Banner. Galatea and Sophia walked at the back. Behind them, came the Sisters of the Hawk. An army of black metal and fiery robes.

The Wolves tried to join them, but this was one time when Emma had to tell them otherwise. The burial of members of the order where outmost sacred rituals. Only the Sisters of the Hawk and members of the Ecclesiarchy and Administratum were allowed to take the walk and enter the Cathedral when it happened. Hjalmar agreed to their terms and ordered his brothers to act as vanguards for the ritual. Making sure no one disturbed the parade of the Cardinal´s body.

People whispered prayers. Some wept as they saw the body. The sisters hummed a song. A song meant burials. A song what one can do with the life they are granted by the Emperor.

 _He did a lot._ Emma thought. _Our Cardinal did a lot. Didn´t he?_

She´d only seen the Cardinal once before. When she completed her training and was taking her final oaths to become an Adaptus Sororita, a Sister of the Hawk, he was the one to take their oaths. He blessed them with holy blood from his own veins and drew the rough shape of the Imperial Aquila on their foreheads. His wife, a woman much younger than him blessed them by reading sacred texts and kissing their foreheads once the marks where drawn, creating soft marks of her lips in the half-dry blood on their foreheads. She couldn´t recall much of how Alfred looked back then. She remembered that his hair was already turning grey, but the brown color still remained on the center of his head. His wife she recalled far more. She was beautiful, with heavenly soft cheeks and sparkling eyes. Her hair was shimmering and curly. It reached down to her elbows. Throughout most of the ritual, Emma couldn´t help but peak up at the Cardinal´s wife. She returned the look once, and Emma swiftly turned her gaze back to the marble floor. Even if they only looked at each other for a short moment, Emma saw sadness and misery in those eyes.

 _How can such pretty eyes be so sad?_ Emma recalled thinking. _My mother is beautiful. But she has only been sad once._

" _You came into my cathedral has initiates._ " Alfred had said while they were still kneeling. " _Now you have taken the oaths to become Sisters of the Hawk. An order of my creation. An order to guard the borders of the Eye of Terror. Do you now swear to dedicate your lives to the Emperor and the safeguard of his Imperium?_ "

They all chanted, " _Yes, my Cardinal_.", In response.

" _Then rise, Sisters of the Hawk._ " That was the last time Emma saw Alfred. She only heard anything of him years later.

 _And now I have returned. To find him dead by the man responsible for my second ascension._ She paused to think. _Both dead. Maybe all the men who raise me are doomed._

The parade took up most of the night. A man as sacred as Alfred was always meant to be buried just before dawn broke, so that the light of his fire may be enhanced by the radiance of the sun.

The sun climbed slowly above the horizon. But the golden rays were hidden behind the thick grey clouds that hung above the spires and towers. They seemed pregnant with rain, but they remained still. Silently watching them from above.

They reached the gate and the Lords of the Administratum stood waiting. Gandrel with a scribe serf at his side, ready to note everything or anything of value. Baldwick was hunched over. His entire body leaning on a staff veined by wires made of copper, steel and other, stronger alloys. Conrad dressed in his official uniform, granting him a stature and look that struggled to fight the ghastly look of his face. His eyes regarding them with equal sadness and contempt.

 _The sorrow is for the Cardinal._ Emma thought as she glanced up at the pyre. _The resent is for all of us._

They stopped and kneeled.

"The Palatines and the Standard Bearer of the Hawk have arrived to lay our sacred Cardinal, Alfred Derus to rest." Anna said. "We wish to enter our Cathedral so that his body can be purged of mortal sins in the sacred flames of the Emperor."

"Your permeation will be granted." Conrad said, and Gandrel´s scribe started writing.

"Thank you, Supreme Judge."

Conrad turned and waved his hand to the gate. It split open, and the harsh rays of sunlight poured out. Breaking through a break in the clouds, the sun shined through the painted glass at the end of the Cathedral hall.

The hall was silent. Only serf-sisters of the Cathedral where in the hall, and they did not let out a word. They only sat still with their hand clasped. The Palatine Sisters entered along with the Lords of Administratum.

They placed the pyre in the end of the hall. Before the statue of the Blessed Lady and the Emperor crowning her.

Emma stepped aside as Galatea opened the Lectitio Divinitatus and started reading the text. A final prayer for the Cardinal before he his purge.

It didn´t take her long to finish. Galatea only read a few pages of the text before closing the book and igniting the torch that would set the pyre ablaze.

The flames quickly spread around the Cardinal. He was wrapped in white cloth, an Imperial Aquila made of polished steel rested on his chest. A feather made of white silver rested on his forehead. They were both master-crafted by the hand of the finest metal smith in the Capital. Even as he had suffered severe burns to his arms, he was able to finish both of them within just three days after they were commissioned.

The flames scorched them both. The shining grey steel turned black and the snow-white silver became grey. Sisters in the hall started weeping. There was only one or two quietly sniffling at first but soon more of them started sobbing as tears collected and dripped of their cheeks and noses.

Emma looked to her palatine sisters. Galatea was still as a statue. Her bolter firmly pressed to her chest. Anna held the Banner in both hands, her fingers shifting and rubbing the pole. Sophia stood tall like Galatea but when Emma looked more carefully, she saw the fingers made by tears running down her cheeks. Gathering at her jaw, they dripped to the floor.

 _What should I feel?_ Emma folded her arms across her chest and sighed. _We went from celebrating the end of the war to mourning the death of our Cardinal in just a few days._ She had enjoyed the calm as they marched back to the Capital. She enjoyed the little feasts and meals she shared with the wolves. Even if it was usually just her alone with the wolves, or her and Anna. She looked forward to feasting with the wolves on their great victory feast, even if she was certain Johana would never join her. She tried to convince her sister to join her on the wolves' feasts multiple times, but she always turned down the offer. But even so, it was something she awaited eagerly.

 _We will have that feast._ Emma told herself. _Once the trial is done. We will feast. And I will take Johana there. It will be before the wolves head into the Eye, and we…_

The pyre started cracking. Emma felt the heat of it on the back of her head since it was set ablaze, but now it grew warmer with every snap of black burned logs.

The Supreme Judge was standing next to her, though Emma had paid him little mind. He walked to her and stopped by her side.

"You are the Young Palatine, are you not?"

"I am Emma. Palatine of the Talons."

"Also, the Belated. The Inquisitor contacted you before he was found above the corpse of our Cardinal."

"Yes."

"What did he say to you?"

"You should already know, Supreme Judge."

"I want to hear from your tongue."

The words made worms writhe across Emma´s stomach. She took a hard swallow before answering. "He claimed Alfred was trying to set the Capital ablaze. That he had lost his mind and that I should head for the Cathedral along with my most trusted sisters." She pressed the words quickly past her lips. "He told me to tell no one else of it."

"Very well, Palatine. The trial will begin in a few days. Until then I suggest you figure out whom your most trusted sisters are."


	61. Chapter 58

The black rose chapter 58

 _It's beautiful._

Emma walked through the hall and looked up at the painting in the roof. The sharp, clean lines. The bright, warm colors and the soft, subtle shadows made it a work some could lose hours simply staring into. A magnificent piece of art made by an artist at the peak of his ability.

She turned on the spot and wondered how things would have been if the Lords of Ultramar had been the ones to come to their aid, rather than the Wolves of Fenris.

 _There where twenty founding legions. Two faded from the pages of history. Nine rebelled against the Emperor. Nine stayed at his side. The nine who stayed became hundreds and thousands of brotherhoods. No, one of them refused. The Space Wolves. There are no successors to the Sons of Russ. They remained at their brothers´ side. They refused the decree of the Master of Ultramar, Roboute Guilliman. Perhaps they remain truer to the Emperor´s will. Perhaps they are his most loyal and honorable sons._ A laughed bubbled to Emma´s lips. _Sons that drink and feasts their boredom away._

She still meant to join the wolves. They were still preparing. Gathering meats, fruits and barrels of mead from _Winter´s Wrath_. They where getting ready to have the feast tonight.

 _Hjalmar may have said I was stuttering, but I meant it when I admire Tor. I admire all the wolves. They can toss anything of their shoulders. They can charge into battle, howling the Emperor´s name without hesitation. They can fight through with blood dropping from the stumps of their torn limbs, return to feast and be ready to do it all again._

"Emma." Johana said from the end of the hall.

"Sister Superior." Emma gave her a nod.

"The Mechanicus guild have started the repairs, but it will take some time before the materials can be mined and manufactured."

"We are going to need supplies from the Forgeworld."

"They are going to be bitter if we asked for it. The tech-priests would rather see their metals used for grander things than hab-blocks and spires."

"Then they will be bitter." Emma said. _They should be happy Conrad or Sophia didn´t decided to invade them because of what Lepario revealed._ "Will you join me for the wolves´ feast?"

"No." Johana shock her head. "I would rather not."

"Why not?"

"Because they are loudmouth, messy eaters that laugh at their own tasteless jokes."

Her bluntness was surprising to Emma. "Won´t you join them as thanks for their aid in the war?"

"No." Johana said. "I will not."

Emma gave up. She pushed a string of her hair behind her ear and rubbed her neck. "Alright. I won´t force you."

"Thank you, my sister." Johana walked up to her and pulled Emma in for a hug. "Let´s talk somewhere where others can´t hear us." She whispered into Emma´s ear.

She leaned in and put a hand close to Johana´s ear. "Do you know of any places?" The Cathedral´s cam-feeds were limited but the serf-sisters where constantly on patrol. The only place Emma could be truly certain she was being unwatched was in her mind.

"Come." Johana took her sister by the wrist and lead her down to the lower chambers. Hanging on the edge of the Cathedral, overlooking the Capital. There was only one door in and only one spot someone could be listening. Johana took Emma to the window. "Keep your voice low." She whispered.

"How do you know of this place?"

"Long ago, before I meet you, I would sometimes run of to pray in this chamber."

"Why didn´t you pray with the others?"

Johana seemed hesitant to respond. "Some of my other sisters would tease and mock me. Because of the oath I was given, but it doesn´t matter now. My only oath now is to you, my Palatine."

Emma still cringed whenever someone called her that though she didn´t let it show. "What did you want talk about?"

"Why did the Inquisitor only contact you? Before the flames where unleashed."

"Because he knew my secret."

"How?"

"I´m not sure. He claimed to have been to the hive where I was born. He said he meet Alfredstan, the priest that granted me the chance to join our order."

"Do you think he betrayed you?"

"No." _I can´t imagine him betraying anyone._

"Are you certain?"

"Yes."

"How?"

"Alfredstan doesn´t know of my secret. But the Inquisitor found out somehow. He told me that I should do as he said, or he would reveal it."

"What did you?"

"I… I snapped at him, and he backed off." At the time, Emma was certain that Derik was just going to use her secret later. That he was just going to force her to do vile things.

"It didn´t stop him." Johana said bitterly. "So, when you were calling out over the vox, you were calling the Inquisitor."

"I wasn´t certain of what else to do." Emma stared blankly forward. "And then Sophia came out with the Inquisitor´s body staked on a banner pole."

"But why would our Cardinal want to burn us alive?"

Emma wanted to claim ignorance. She wanted to say she had no clue. But the answer was staring her in the face. "We have fought and bleed alongside the Imperial Guardsmen… and the Space Wolves."

"Do you think he considered us tainted because we followed the Inquisitor´s orders?" Johana asked in disbelief, but her face quickly shifted to realization. "We failed him." Johana said coldly. "We have all become tainted."

Emma pulled Johana close. She wrapped her arms around her and rested her chin on her shoulder. "Only in his eyes. The Emperor still favors us."

"What makes you believe that?"

Emma stared forward, into the black wall behind Johana´s back. "His gene-inheritors fight by our side. We have shown them our strength and earned their respect."

"It´s only Hjalmar that admires you. He goes around calling you Terminator-Slayer."

"And he calls Galatea Knight-Bane." Emma pulled back and looked into Johana´s eyes. "We are sisters in faith. Faith is a greater bond than blood. We share our strength and achievements."

"And our faults and failures."

* * *

"How much are we looking at?" Hjalmar asked.

"Much." Galatea answered from her desk. She was leaning forward, her augmented eye whirred as she shuffled through scribe letters and documents. "At least half the city´s defense platforms are either damaged or completely destroyed. The ones that aren´t can´t even aim properly anymore."

"The dead?"

"Nothing certain. At least five-hundred-thousand but the number keeps growing."

"By the time we have a solid number they will have started healing and dying." Hjalmar´s tone showed his contemplation.

"That´s not mentioning how many munitions where destroyed." Galatea lifted her gaze to look up at the old wolf. In the dim light of twilight, he might have been difficult to see but her metal-eye filtered and enhanced what little light was there, drawing his form in a fuzzed shape that mixed with what she saw with her flesh-eye.

"Is there a forge world close by?"

"Yes, but we have had troubled dealings with them these past few years." _Part of them supported the heretics in this war._ That wasn´t a written truth but Galatea was certain of it. How else would the heretics have gained access to the Mechanicums own specialized warriors?

"You have that tech-priest hostage now. Can´t you use him has some to perhaps barging with them?"

"He´s just held as a crucial witness." Galatea said. "Besides it isn´t up to me. The High Lords of Prostoru will decide what happens to him, and what kind of deals we make with the Mechanicus Guild."

"So it will be handled by politicians. It be done quicker if it I just had pack of fresh-born pups do it." Hjalmar said with frustration coating his voice.

"And you plan to stay here until that happens."

The shadow of a smile cracked up on Hjalmar´s lips. Galatea didn´t see it. The thick layers of Hjalmar´s beard with the faint light gave only the grandest gestures any show. She returned to her documents as Hjalmar walked close.

"I want to. I´m just not sure if it is worth it."

Now it was Galatea´s turn to smile. Hers faded just as quickly as Hjalmar´s. "Hope, as they say, is the first step on the road to disappointment."

"Not unless you can look where you are going."

"So, what do you see on the road in front of you?" Galatea turned to the old wolf.

"War. I see it in front of me. I see it behind me. I see it next to me. But I also see strong warriors. I see them behind me. I see them next to me. I just need to know if I am going to see them in front of me."

She looked up at him. "Once our wounds have healed. Our score been settled. Then you will see us at your side."

Galatea could see his smile now. She could see his beard moving, his grey eyes brightening and his fangs flashing. The true smile of a savage wolf.

"Then I shall stay." Hjalmar said.

"Why are you not feasting?"

"Much as there is celebrate, a scorched city has no place or time for feasts. Much as my brothers may think otherwise."

"It´s not just your brothers that are disappointed."

"Aye." Hjalmar took a step back. "I told Emma I´d throw a great feast. Now my brothers have shared the food the people."

"And she is focusing on attending the trial." Galatea´s voice was cold and hard like stone.

"The score that needs settling. Got anything on that?"

"It seems like Sophia was telling the truth, as well as Emma."

"Bugger."

"Hjalmar, I know you didn´t like the Inquisitor."

"That´s using soft words for it. Inquisitors are cowardly, secretive, cunning, dishonorable bastards. Would have had some satisfaction if his death was at least a simple honest one."

"If it weren´t for him, Emma, Sophia, me, the every single one of the Sisters of the Hawk would have been dead before we could have even reached the Maiden."

Hjalmar grunted with a tone so slow it sounded like he was growling.

"You trusted him, once. Didn´t you?"

"Aye. I thought he might be telling the truth when he sent me the conformation that the Maiden was a mutant. It was only after Emma told me that you didn´t know of it I knew I was dealing with another bloody trickster."

"Well he his dead now. Take whatever you can get from it."

"Why do you think he called Emma and not anyone else?"

"I don´t know. From the Arbites´ report, it seems like our Cardinal was trying to set the entire Capital up in flames. Maybe the Inquisitor caught on somehow and tried to stop it."

"In that case, why didn´t he tell us?"

"We wouldn´t have believed him."

"I definitely wouldn´t." Hjalmar admitted. "And I can´t see you or any of your sisters else doing so either. No one believes a schemer once you know that they are plotting." Hjalmar grunted a laugh. "Maybe his death was more deserving then I thought."

"Did those that died in the flames deserve it as well?"

"No." Hjalmar shock his head. "No, they didn´t."

"It is still strange, why did he contact Emma?"

"She´s hasn´t been palatine for very long as she?"

"She ascended just after you arrived. The Inquisitor was strongly in favor of having her become Palatine of the Talons."

"Emma is young too." Hjalmar said. "Maybe he thought he could have her act as his puppet. To be able to manipulate you."

"Maybe. There are still strange things going on. The interrogation with Lepario Domani revealed that general Corvey Ironfield was there as well, along with some lady of a noble house from Holy Terra. And then there is that fact that the Inquisitor´s ship still remains in orbit."

"Aren´t you keeping cannons pinned on it?"

"We didn´t have to." Galatea said. "Its made no attempted to escape and the captain claims they are under specific orders from the Inquisitor himself to not leave for Cadia until he could gather whoever is still willing to go there. But before you ask, yes, our anti-orbit cannons were pinned on it until our fleet could surround it."

"This keep getting stranger and stranger."

"It might become clear soon. The ship´s captain along with the chief tech-priest are being interrogated as we speak. Hopefully they´ll shed some truth on things."

"Bloody well hope so."


	62. Chapter 59

The black rose chapter 59

The court was a tall room. The walls reached so high that the roof was hard to make out. A set of seats guarded each wall. Starting a good meter above the ground, the seats climbed like a staircase until the ones closest to the wall was sitting more than twenty meters above the floor. Conrad sat in a bench at the front. He was dressed in his formal coat of arms with medals and seals covering his left chest.

"By the God-Emperor, Master and Protector of Mankind, let the trial of the Palatine of the Wings of the Hawk, Sophia, begin." Gandrel said as his scribe servitor started humming.

"Let the accused enter." Conrad spoke into his vox-spreader.

Thick doors in front of Conrad´s seat opened, and the Palatine of the Wings entered. She wore her armor with her helmet resting under her arm. She accompanied by the six sisters that followed her to into the Cathedral.

She stopped in the center and looked up at the Supreme Judge.

"Palatine of the Wings," Conrad said. "You stand accused of the murder of Inquisitor Derik Horst. Do you deny this?"

"No. I killed the Inquisitor with my own hands. But we," Sophia gestured to the sisters behind her. "Are innocent of the accusation of murder."

Conrad rose from his chair. He pulled the vox-spreader free. "There is a saying among every branch of the Inquisition; innocence proves nothing. That is why, regardless of your claims, Palatine of the Wings, the trial shall commence."

Sophia took a formal bow. "By the Emperor´s will, the truth shall come forth."

 _Let the truth come forth._ Emma prayed.

"First," Conrad sat back down. "We shall review the evidence; the Cardinal was found dead inside the Cathedral he made. He was found with a knife pushed through his chest and Inquisitor Derik Horst standing over his body. The only other witness to these events, high Mechanicus Lord Leparios Domani, shall now be called as a witness."

Limping and swaying on poorly balanced legs, the tech-priest waddled forth to the witness podium.

"Leparios Domani." Conrad said, and the tech-priest nodded. "You were present when our Cardinal was killed at the hands of Inquisitor Derik Horst. Is this true?"

"Ye- Yes." Leparios´ vox-grill lagged.

"What did you witness?"

"I- I saw the Inq- Inquisitor murder our Cardinal as he charged into the room with general Ironfield."

"I see." Conrad paused to let the scribe servitor write out its parchments. "Do you know where general Ironfield is now?"

"Nnnnn- no."

Conrad noticed Sophia raising her hand. "Palatine of the Wings, do you have something to add?"

"I saw general Ironfield before we entered the room. He had a young woman in red dress with him. She was the one who alerted to the Inquisitor."

Conrad raised a brow. "Lepario Domani, you are dismissed. So general Ironfield is gone. He is facing charges of disobedience and fabrication of documents. To my eyes it would seem that the young general was plotting with the Inquisitor and decided to leave him to face the consequences."

There was a pause. Not a silent one. The room was alive with sisters and colonels and admirals talking the possibilities.

"Do you think he did?" Johana whispered into Emma´s ear.

"It's not impossible." Emma answered. Derik had gone behind everyone's back. He´d lied to Hjalmar. He´d kept the truth from her Palatine sisters and he somehow discovered Emma´s secret. What was to stop him from trying one more ploy?

"Conrad, Supreme Judge." General Garius Lup rose from his seat and used his vox-spreader to overpower the other voices in the room. "I find this accusation to be uncalled and born from coincidence."

"First General." Conrad spoke in a formal manner but that was only a thin cloth over his disapproval. "It is well known that you cherish the young general like he was your own son. It is therefore I would advise you not to speak up in this matter."

"It is precisely why I will speak up on this matter. Corey is man pure of heart and faith, with the will and capacity to command. I will not let his name along with his fathers be brought down by throwing ideas of conspiracy around without any proof its existence."

Conrad turned in his seat. "Gandrel, what where the orders we gave to the young general in preparation for the parade?"

Gandrel produced a scroll from his robes. "Corey Ironfield was given the orders by Supreme Judge Conrad Krono to specifically arrange a parade for the Sisters of the Hawk and stop the Planetary Defense Forces along with the Space Wolves from participating."

"And as I am sure anyone here can tell, the Imperial Guard where marching alongside the Sisters of the Hawk as well as the Space Wolves. What did the general do when he was confronted with this?"

"Supreme Judge," Gandrel rolled the scroll back up. "I am certain you don´t need me to recount those events."

"You are right. I don´t." Conrad turned back. "He referred me to a poor joke about how the Space Wolves could not read nor understand High Gothic and I should go and tell the wolves myself that they where not allowed to partake in the parade."

"And what did you do then?" Garius asked.

"I acted has my duty demanded." Conrad answered. "I pressed the young general for his reasons and he claimed that the Imperial Guard where just as crucial in taking down House Mountbatten as the Space Wolves."

"They were." Emma spoke up and the room went quiet. She could feel almost every person looking at her but there was one pair of eyes she unflinchingly meet.

Conrad look down at her. "Palatine of the Talons. Why do you claim this?"

"Because I was there. And I can tell you that if it weren´t for the efforts of the Space Wolves and the Imperial Guard the Sisters of the Hawk would have been butchered long before we even considered making a move on House Mountbatten."

Conrad stared down at Emma´s face. The look he gave her provoked memories of Derik staring at her. It made her lips twitch.

"She is telling the truth." Conrad turned to address the crowd. "But the young general wasn´t. There was hardly a fragment of truth in what he was claiming."

"What was the rest then?" Garius asked.

"You claim that Corey had the will and capacity to command." Conrad turned to the First General. "Yet during my years of working with the young general I have only seen a disrespectful and stubborn man who´s only virtue was to be born the son of the most accomplished general of our history." The contempt he had shown Emma grew into something larger when he addressed General Lup. "He only gave your guardsmen and the brutish wolves permission to partake in the parade to spite his superiors."

Garius sank silently down in his seat.

"For a man to command he must first know who stands above him. That was lesson that Corey Ironfield refused to learn. For now, general Ironfield is missing, but once he is found, he will the tried for his charges. Let the Emperor have no mercy on him." Conrad said. He looked back at Sophia. "Now, back to the matter at hand. This trial was started because one of the Sisters of the Hawk claimed to have been warned of the release of burning promethium. Palatine of the Talons, step forth."

Enna stepped down from her seat and took the witness podium next the Sophia.

"When where you warned?"

"When we where coming close the Cathedral. The Inquisitor contacted me through a closed vox-channel and told me to keep an eye out and alert him if anything happened."

"What were you supposed to look out for?" Gandrel asked.

"He didn´t say. It was only after the promethium was released and I vox-reached him that he told me that the Cardinal had lost his mind and was trying to burn the Capital to the ground."

"Do you have any idea why he would claim anything like that?" Conrad asked.

Emma shock her head. "No, Supreme Judge. I don´t."

"Then why didn´t you share any of this with your sisters?"

"He threatened to destroy my rank." Emma answered immediately. "He told me that he was the one who ascended me, and that he could easily bring me down further than I was before."

"And how would he do something like that?"

"I don´t know."

Conrad scratched his chin.

"Supreme Judge!" Johana rose. "I wish to object."

"Why?"

"On what grounds do you question my palatine´s statement? She is a brave and skilled palatine and master of the blade. Under her command, the Talons have triumphed where we would have otherwise fallen. Her merit should be more than enough to dismay all the lies the Inquisitor threatened to taint her reputation with."

"Those are some mighty claims." Conrad said. "Can anyone vouch for them?"

"I can." Galatea said. "Everything sister Johana claims is true. Moments after the Canoness died, Emma took charge and lead the Talons out of a killing field set up by the heretics. If not for her quick thinking and strong command, every single sister of the Talons would have been dead, and we would have soon joined them." Galatea threw a glare down at Sophia.

"And we would have died pure and proud." Sophia answered. "While Emma the Fool has been in command of the Talons they have fought alongside not only the unpure Guardsmen and savage Space Wolves but she has spared and made deals with heretics, as suggest by the Inquisitor himself."

"And enforced by me." Galatea said. "While you were covering inside your tent, Emma fought and bleed so that we could end the civil war!"

"Silence!" Conrad smashed his hammer into his podium. The bang echoed like a bolter shoot. "I have read every single one of the reports from the war. I know of the deal you struck and the events that surrounded it. Rest assured, there will be sentences for this as swell. But that is not for this trial. Emma, return to your seat."

Emma bowed and did as she was told.

"To return to the trial of the Palatine of the Wings," Gandrel returned to his documents. "Conrad what is your sentences for the accused?"

He threw another look at Emma, and she felt it. She did not meet his gaze. She stared forward and felt Johana´s hand softly resting on hers.

"Palatine of the Wings. Sisters of the Wings, In the Light of the Emperor, master and protector of Mankind, I release you of all charges. There is no evidence for your actions being foolish or without a clear judgement from the Emperor of Mankind. The execution you performed on the murder of our Holy Cardinal was justified and righteously performed."

Emma felt Johana´s hand tighten. She wanted to put her own hand on hers. She wanted to try and ease her. But she was stiff with fear.

"Now," Gandrel said. "For the trail of the Palatine of the Tail along with the Palatine of the Talons."

The room went live with chatter. There was no chance for small talk or little whispers. People where loudly voicing their objections or praises.

"Silence!" Conrad shouted, and the court became still. "Before the trial proceeds, the tech-priest Tayber D-34 from Inquisitor Derik Horsts ship shall provide his own testimony."

Another tech-priest entered. Emma recognized him. He was the one who crafted the blade that she made Johana take an oath on. He was smaller in size and posture to Lepario. Hunched with yellow dots on segmented stalks for eyes.

"Tayber D-34," Conrad went on. "What were the orders you were given by Inquisitor Derik Horst?"

"To remain in orbit over the planet while he went away. Even in case of his death, we should stay behind in wait for anyone still wanting to aid Cadia in the defense against the Black Crusade he feared."

"The evidence points to the Inquisitor coming here to assassinate our Cardinal in order to gain control over the Sisters of the Hawk," Conrad spoke to the court. "To take them on his own quest and have them perform more acts that would bring taint to their name."

"I have a question for the tech-priest." Galatea said.

"One." Conrad said.

"Why didn´t you even attempt to leave as we aimed our orbital cannons at you?"

"Because of a simple, yet crucial goal." Tayber looked up at Conrad. "A goal that can still be completed."

Conrad brushed it off. "It will have to wait regardless. Palatine of the Tail and Talons, your trial for the deal you made with the heretical families of Molncel shall begin."

"I was also an acting member in that deal!" Garius Lup shouted the words into his vox-caster. "If you want to have the Palatines tried for this then I shall be a part of this trial as well."

"Very well."

"But before you make any judgement, consider this; if more than half of the Palatines are sentenced to death along with the First General of the Planetary Defense forces, who will rise up to take those rolls? And if they do, will they be able to perform their duties as well as the current ones?"

The hall went from rambunctious to silent. Conrad stared down at Garius, and he stared back. A cold sweat bead ran down Emma´s temple.

The doors to the chamber flung open. A scribe charged in. "The gate has fallen!" He shouted. "The gate has fallen!"

"What bloody gate?" Conrad asked.

"The Cadian gate! The planet broke! The Forces of Chaos are pouring through!"


	63. Chapter 60

The black rose chapter 60

In dreams brimming with cries and wrapped in silence, Johana saw her sister. She stood tall, noble and proud. Her hand resting on her sword and her golden hair flowing down across her black armor. The scar on her cheek that the Canoness had given her was gone, and all other marks she had collected. They had been added slowly, from one battle to the other. It was only when Johana saw Emma without them that she realized how many they where.

 _My Palatine, my sister, my love. What have they done to you?_

Rose-red lips smiled as sky-blue eyes looked at Johana. She didn´t speak. She never did. The smile told Johana all she needed to know.

 _I shall become your maiden. I shall absorb all your sins, all your faults. Whatever purity I have left shall be given to you. I shall absorb your every sin. And then, when you have risen, when you have been granted your son, we shall both ascend._

Johana stared down at her hands resting in her lap. Pale, twisted and crisscrossed by sharp scars. No finger was or could even bend. They were all twisted and broken. The muscles were rotten, sagged and clinging to the bones.

 _This is what I will become._

Johana raised her hands to grasp her sister.

Emma remained still. Her expression a constant smile as the wind tugged lightly at her robes. She stepped forth and gently took Johana´s hands in her own. With the careful embrace that a mother cradles their child, Emma let Johana´s hands rest in her palms. Emma leaned forward.

 _Not yet. I am not worthy yet._

* * *

At night, it looked like a crackling purple lightning bolt. Frozen, it had spread from the Eye like the plant sprouting from a seed. At day, it tainted the heavens. The sickly colors spilling out over the blue sky. People claimed it broke out in the blink of an eye, others claimed they could see the thing grow, that they even heard the fibers of reality being ripped apart as the Warp spilled forth from the gash. It made no difference. The Cadian Gate had fallen, and the Forces of Chaos were ready to make their assault into the system.

"How long do we have?" Emma asked. As she stared up at it from the observatory window.

"Days. Years. Hours." Galatea answered from the holo-projection of the planetary system. "It doesn´t matter what the answer is."

"They will still come." Anna filled in.

"I still can´t believe it." Emma said. "The Cadian Gate has stood for more than ten thousand years. Why did it fall now?"

"Believe it or not, it has still happened." Galatea folded her arms as she stared up at the tear. "Our neighboring systems have fallen. We need to do whatever we can to hold the line."

Anna nodded in agreement.

"So, what do we do?" Emma asked.

"I have already talked to General Lup. He is gathering every soldier he has it his command. Hjalmar is making sure everyone of his battle-brothers that can swing their weapons and load bolters are ready fight."

"And what about us?"

"Like I said, we hold the line." Galatea voice was cold and firm like stone in winter.

"We are not going to survive this assault, are we?" The question came out of her with such ease, yet once the words were out Emma felt the weight of them.

Galatea turned to look at her. Her augmented eye zoomed and clicked as if it was trying to mimic the look on her flesh eye. "We are Sisters of the Battle. Upon taking our oaths, we pledge our lives to the Emperor´s will. Now the time has come that we give Him our lives as promised."

Emma looked over at Anna, and the Standard Bearer gave her a look that confirmed Galatea´s statement.

"So, this is where we will make our final stand." _In the city ruled by the man who tried to have us all burned alive._ "This is where our lives shall be spent."

"This where our lives will be completed." Sophia said from the end of the room. She´d stood there in a silence since they all gathered. Her eyes glaring outwardly at them like a pair of glowing embers. "If you don´t see that, if you cannot comprehend that, then I have lost what little hope I had left for you."

 _Spared me the title._ "I see it, Sophia." _I see that we will die. I am ready for it._ _I´m just not sure if I´m prepared._

"Before we make our final stand, I suggest you all pray." Sophia said. "The Emperor is going to hear all our voices now, make sure he doesn´t miss yours."

"I am not going to pray." Emma said. She took the moment to get a look at Sophia´s expression before continuing. "I am going to act." She left the observatory without another word.

* * *

The cell was larger than the one she had been in the last time. It was larger, taller and the prisoner wasn´t chained to the wall.

"Tayber." Emma said once he noticed her.

One of the yellow dots looked at her, then down to her belt and up at her again. "I recognize that sword."

"How?"

"A good craftsman recalls every one of his works." The tech-priest answered. "You are the Palatine of the Talons."

"Emma."

"No second name?"

"Never had one."

The clicking little worm-like eye stalks moved and looked at her with an expression that could have been admiration or distain, frustration or satisfaction. There was no way for Emma to tell.

"What do you want with me?" Tayber asked after watching Emma in silence for a few moments.

"I want to ask you some questions." Emma sat down in a chair that the tech-priest wasn´t using. "And I want you to be honest when you answer them."

"What if I just don´t answer?"

Emma stared down at floor for brief second. She lifted her gaze back up to the tech-priest. "The Cadian Gate as fallen and we are all next. We all have our duties and roles to play in the battle to come." Emma paused. "Then we shall all be judged."

"What is your question?" Tayber asked.

"What was the promise the Inquisitor made to you? And why can we still fulfil it?"

Tayber went silent.

"He promised me the coordinates of a STC close to this system." Tayber said just as Emma was about to prod him.

"What´s an STC?" Emma asked as one of her brows jumped upwards.

A buzzing groan came from the tech-priest's hood. "A Standard Template Construct. A data-slate containing blueprints from the Golden Age of Technology."

It was the end of his answer that made Emma realize the importance of the item. A treasure from the fabled ages. She´d heard stories of generals sacrificing entire armies to fetch one of these trinkets. Or how whole Space Marine Chapters would dedicate themselves to finding just a single one.

She put her hands over her face to hide her brief yet overwhelming smile.

"Do you have these coordinates?" Emma asked.

"No. But I know where to find them."

"Alright." Emma put her hands on her face again. "If I pledge for your release, will you give us those coordinates?"

"Only if I am given the STC once you retrieve it." Tayber replied.

"Done." Emma said without hesitation.

Tayber´s eyes shoot upwards like he was raising his brows. Emma would have been surprised that the tech-priest could even display emotions if she hadn´t been so quenched by her own.

"Will you give it to me? Will you give me the STC?"

"Yes." _This will be my deed. This will make the Emperor notice me._

* * *

She was alone before the shrine of the Martyred Lady. Quietly, she prayed and thanked the Emperor.

"Are preparing to die, my Palatine?" Johana´s voice came behind her.

"No. I am not, Sister Superior." Emma turned to look at her sister. She was in her robes. Her brown-black hair had grown wild and unkempt. "I am thanking the Emperor for giving me the chance to gain his holy grace."

"What do you mean?"

"The tech-priest serving under the Inquisitor just told me of an STC that is close to us."

"An STC? A Standard Template Construct?"

"Yes." Emma couldn´t keep her smile down. She even felt a pressure behind her eyes.

"You want to collect it, don´t you?"

Emma nodded.

"And then the Emperor will witness and know of your deed. He will grant you the mercy of seeing your son again."

"Yes." Emma felt her cheeks hurt because she smiled so hard.

Johana bowed and kneeled before Emma. "Whether it will cost me my life or my honor, I will serve you in this task, however I can. My Palatine."


	64. Chapter 61

The black rose chapter 61

"An STC?" Galatea stated the question as if she was being asked if there was a Titan beneath her desk.

"Yes." Emma still had a grin on her lips, though she managed to press it down.

"And do you believe he is telling the truth?"

"Yes." Emma answered, eager to have things move along.

Galatea sighed. "These are dire times, Emma. We have to gather every single warrior we can here, before they come. This will be a battle no one of us can imagine."

"And we will all give our lives in it." Emma finished. "I am ready to give my life. I was ready to give my life to the Emperor the day I swore my oaths to become a Sister of the Hawk."

"I am not questioning that, Emma. You have proven yourself more than willing to risk your life to fight for the Emperor´s will. I am questioning whether pursuing this STC is worth it when we are about to be assaulted by the Forces of Chaos."

"What difference will it make?" Emma folded her arms. "We already know we are going to die. What difference will it make if we send a force out to collect this STC?"

"We are heading into a battle that will decided the fate of untold billions. We don´t have the luxury of thinking our own lives as anything more than numbers for some distant scribe. This battle can make the difference between the Imperium standing for another ten thousand years or one that gets torn apart and rots while the Forces of Chaos feast on what remains until only a stripped corpse remains."

"So can the STC." Emma said.

Galatea went silent. Galatea took some parchment, dipped her quill and started writing. The point of the quill scratching the paper was the only sound in the room.

Emma remained. Her fingers pulled at her robe. _I will not leave._ Emma thought. _And your silence will not make me leave._

The quill kept scratching. Soon the parchment was filled and Galatea put it aside before taking another.

Emma sighed quietly. She didn´t want Galatea to hear.

"Where would the Inquisitor have kept the coordinates for this STC?" Galatea finally asked after several minutes of silence.

"In a cogitator on his ship. Tayber claims he can extract them if we just allow him aboard the ship."

Galatea´s flesh-eye narrowed. The augmented clicked. "You will have to get permission from Conrad, as he is acting governor now."

"Then I´ll get it."

* * *

Johana joined Emma the moment she shared her plans. Together they headed towards the Supreme Judge´s office.

 _I will go there._ Emma thought. _I will go to the planet and come back with the STC. I will go through storms of swords, hails of bullets and back again. I will give the STC to the Marsian Machine-Cult and I will die in service to the Emperor. Then, the Emperor will grant me my wish._

Two guards greeted Emma and Johana. They blocked their path by lowering their spears and shouldering shields.

"Identify yourselves." One of the guards said.

"Emma, Palatine of the Tail." Emma gestured to her sister. "This Johana of the same company. She is my Sister Superior. I want to meet the Supreme Judge."

"Request denied. The Supreme Judge is managing troop munitions and is preparing to enter negotiations with the Adeptus Mechanicum."

"In that case," Emma said. "He´s going to want to know what we know." She took a step forward but the guards pointed their spears at her.

Johana took Emma´s wrist. She looked threw quick glances at both the guards. "You can either let us into Conrad´s office now or we can go to one of the other Ministorum Lords and they will tell him, and when he asks why we didn´t come for him directly I will point to you two."

The guards backed off. Their weapons were still down and ready to strike but through the narrow eye-slits in their helms, Emma could see them exchanging looks.

"What is it that you know?" One of them asked.

"Something to important for two guards to know about." Emma answered.

A few moments passed before one of them spoke. "You may enter." The pair backed off and let the sisters past.

"Supreme Judge, Conrad." Emma said with a nod as they entered.

"Palatine of the Talons." He tossed a scorn filled glare at the sisters. "And Sister Johana. Why are you in my office?"

"We have just received news of the coordinates of an STC being within our reach." Emma said.

Conrad´s quill stopped. "What?"

"You heard what she said." Johana said.

Conrad looked at Johana, then at Emma. The scorn in his gaze was gone. Now surprise and perplexing covered them. "Do you mean to tell me that you believe that the coordinates for an STC are within our grasp?"

"I do." Emma answered.

"Where?"

"On Inquisitor Derik Horst´s ship. He seems to be storing them inside a cogitator that his tech-priest claims to be able to crack open."

Conrad leaned back in his chair. "This is significant news."

 _It is fantastic news._

"The Machine-Cult will be thrilled if there are told that we have the coordinates for the STC." There was the shadow of a smile on his lips. Lips that resembled a pair of dried old worms. Worms that curled the second afterwards. "Bring the tech-priest here. I will have him interrogated."

"She´s telling the truth." Johana said.

"I know." Conrad said. "I have seen more liars in my life than you could ever imagine. I can tell an honest citizen of the Imperium from a lying heretic like you tell the difference between a sword master and a novice. Your sister is truthful on this matter. It's the tech-priest I am doubting. He served an Inquisitor known for his lies and deceits. For all we know he could be trying the same methods his master did."

"There is a simpler way." Emma said.

"And what would that be?"

"We simple let him aboard the ship and let him hack the cogitator. Once its open we will know if he was telling the truth or not."

Conrad looked snide. The grimace his face made was one of slim satisfaction and great distain. "Go."

Neither of the sisters moved.

"What about the cogitator?" Johana stubbornly asked.

"It will be cracked open." Conrad admitted. "A meeting will be held once we know of its contents."

Emma smiled. She put a hand on Johana´s shoulder. "We will both be there for the meeting."


	65. Chapter 62

The black rose chapter 62

Emma stood on the edge of the balcony. The taste of ale was still fresh on her lips. She leaned forward and stared out across the city. The showers of sparks and roars of machines looked like flickering candle lights and sounded like cracklings of a fire. She knew well how big they were, and how much work was being done, undoing the High Cardinal´s own attempt to exterminate the order he founded. But from where she looked down it looked small, insignificant.

She looked up, at the Eye of Terror and the Great Gash spreading out across the night sky. The Eye was the size of her fist and the Gash spread across the sky by the width of her arm. They were close to the southern border but the Eye and the Gash dominated her vision more than the men and women working to protect the Capital from it.

"You think it's quiet, don't you?" Hjalmar asked behind her.

"Yes. But I imagine you hear a lot more."

"Aye." Hjalmar lifted his tankard. "But that´s not what I´m listening to. I may hear a lot more than mortals and other brother-chapters. But there is something else that´s making noise."

"What would that be?" Emma looked back at Hjalmar. He was wearing a coat made from a shaggy wolf hide with the skull of the beast resting on his head, looking like it was trying to bite down and swallow it.

"The spirits of Fenris." Hjalmar walked up to her. "They are screaming."

"I can´t hear them."

"Few can." Hjalmar rested his hands on the railing. "Even fewer can talk to them."

"Can they hear us?"

"Aye. They always hear us."

"Then it won´t be long before they hear us scream." Emma replied.

"No." Hjalmar´s voice was a grumble. "They will hear us howl and roar. They will hear our battle cries and the screams of our enemies as they discover the mistake they made by coming here."

"You call Tor a blue-boy, but you seem to be just as confident as he is." Emma took a chug from her tankard.

Hjalmar shrugged off what Emma said. "They have come to this system to hunt. To feast on our souls, they believe we are ripe for the picking." Hjalmar flung his keg around so hard that half of its contents spilled. "Too bad when those traitorous bastards will be meet by the Sisters of the Hawk fighting side by side with the Vlka Fenryka!"

She wanted to say that she believed every word he said. But she had to tell the truth. "We will not survive this battle, Hjalmar." Emma said. "The Cadian Gate as fallen, and the Warp as torn a gash through the galaxy. Daemons are spilling forth like blood from an open wound."

"Are those your words, or Galatea's?"

Emma half-smiled. She made a sound that was similar to a laugh. "It was Sophia. She proclaimed it to every sister as we were making our prayers in the Cathedral."

"And you believe what she tells you?" Hjalmar´s bushy brows folded.

"I´d say I don't…"

"But then you´d be lying. So you´ve made up your mind then? You are prepared to die?"

"Not yet." Emma answered.

Hjalmar grinned through his beard. "That´s good." He put his large hand on her shoulder. "Because death is the end of our duty. You and your sisters still have another duty to fulfill."

"Hjalmar," Emma took Hjalmar´s hand in her own. Her fingers were barely enough to engulf the old wolf´s palm. "I have something I wish to ask of you."

"What?"

"I think… I know that the Inquisitor was hiding the coordinates for an STC on his ship."

"Of course the secretive bastard was." Hjalmar flashed his fangs. "Are you planning to go and get it?"

 _I am, and I must._ "When the council is held what we will do with it, I will volunteer to go after it."

"So what do you want of me?"

A slow breath sunk into Emma. "Don´t follow me. My sisters, this planet, this system will need you and your brothers. Now more than ever before. I don´t know how difficult it is going to be for me to recover this STC, but I need you to promise me, don´t follow me or chase after me."

Hjalmar became still as a statue. His grey eyes remind still and fixed on Emma, but his lips were constantly moving and shifting. "Make no crazed dreams or foolish promises, Emma. This is a foe unlike any other. They feast of suffering, they live of our deaths. They are your every fear and every nightmare made flesh. Trust when I say, that after facing this foe those that survive can never return to what they once were. The corruption of Chaos can be resisted by sheer will but it´s taint can never be washed."

"What are you trying to say?"

"We will need everyone to fight the Forces of Chaos. And those that survive will need commanders to guide them." Hjalmar paused. "Emma, you´d be a fool to believe that they will ever let you leave."

"What did I say to Sophia?"

Hjalmar sighed. "I see what you are saying. It takes a fool´s courage to do what you want to do."

"Yes."

Hjalmar rested his hand on Emma´s. His thick fingers easily covered his fist as well has engulfing Emma´s hands. "But you are no fool, Emma. You´ve got guts. Strong guts. With a spirit and a mind for battle."

"Doesn´t matter what I have. You still haven´t answered."

Hjalmar went down to one knee. He untied his wolf-skin cloak. "I swear, I won´t follow you on your task. But I refuse to let you leave without something of me by your side." He wrapped the cloak around Emma and tied it gently around her neck.

When the cloak rested on Hjalmar´s shoulders, it brushed against the floor. When it was on Emma´s it spread out from her ankles into a puddle of brown-grey fur.

"Thank you." Emma said.

"May it keep you warm and safe."

She brushed her fingers against the soft leathery inside of the skin and lifted it with her hands. She felt the weight and size of it.

"You don´t think I should resize it?" Emma asked.

Hjalmar tilted his head. He reached over her shoulder and put the wolf jaw on her head. Though Emma couldn´t see it with the jaw blocking her sight, she was certain that Hjalmar was grinning.

"Aye, you should."


	66. Chapter 63

The black rose chapter 63

The wolf-skin´s head rested on her shoulder. Even clad in her armor the jaw was wide enough to engulf the entire pauldron. The head stared of to her side with empty eyes and sharp fangs. Most of the cloak had been removed when Emma had it recut, but there was still plenty of skin left that hung from Emma´s shoulders and spilled across her back. She liked the look of it when she first saw it for herself but wondered what her sisters would think of it. Making changes to the classical uniform of the Sisters of the Hawk was unheard of. There was little doubt that Sophia would look at with distain but what about Galatea and Anna, or Johana?

 _The design of our wargear was laid down by Alfred, the Cardinal of our order. The man who wanted to have us burned for fighting alongside the Emperor´s Angels of Death. The man who was slain by an agent of the Emperor´s own will._ Emma put her hand on the wolfs skull and stroked it. _Some may call it heresy, but the true heresy would be rejecting a gift from the descendants of the Emperor._

* * *

Silence ruled the room. Emma, Galatea, Anna and Sophia sat gathered around a holo-desk displaying the known galaxy. Terra and the founding chapter homeworlds were clearly marked with large texts while other, less important planets had smaller text attached to them. Some were barely visible. It was an outdated map. The Great Gash wasn´t there.

General Garius Lup sat opposite Emma. His pet crow was on his shoulder, silently watching and gazing.

The quiet atmosphere only lasted a few more minutes. Supreme Judge Conrad entered with Boldwick and his scribe servitor. They were followed by Leparios Domani. The tech-priest was still limping, his hydraulically powered legs grinding and buzzing as he walked.

The three of them sat down on chairs surrounding the holo-desk.

"We have extracted the data from the cogitator on Inquisitor Derik Horst´s ship." Conrad stated.

Boldwick´s servitor buzzed. It´s quill darting across the parchment that slowly rolled from the scroll in its chest.

Garius´ raven cawed, flapped its wings and flew around the room. " _Halt!_ " It shouted as it hovered above Emma. At the call of Garius, the bird returned silently to its master.

"And?" Emma asked. "Where is it?"

"Behind the inner border of the Eye of Terror." Conrad answered. He gestured towards Leparios who proceeded to use his segmented fingers on the keys controlling the holo-desk. It turned and performed a zoom that dragged its sight into the Eye. He paused once it covered the entire display. Seconds later a second zoom dragged it towards the southern border. A third zoom dragged it into the Eye of Terror.

There, in one of the purple tongues that stretched across star systems, a single planet was marked.

"Segmentum Sodrana." Conrad pointed towards the system. "The second planet orbiting a half-dead star. That´s where the STC is located."

 _In there… in the Eye of Terror._

It couldn´t be more within her grasp while also being beyond her reach.

"How can we obtain it?" Garius asked.

"We can´t." Galatea stated. "We are about to come under siege from the Forces of Chaos that are spilling forth from the Eye of Terror and the Great Gash. We cannot spare any warriors or troops on this mission."

" _W- wrong._ " Leparios´ half-repaired vox-grill produced the word. "Estimations and calculations have shown that we can spare a total of ten guardsmen, three sisters."

Galatea´s metal eye clicked. "I won´t let any of sisters go."

"None of mine shall leave either." Sophia said.

"I have more than three hundred thousand guardsmen under my command." Garius said. "It will not be easy, as some would probably prefer a quick death by the hands of a commissar, but there is bound to be a few brave enough to volunteer."

"That just leaves you, Emma." Conrad turned to her. He spared a look at the wolfs skull resting on her shoulder but made no remark of it.

 _If it was simple, the Emperor would never take notice._ "I volunteer to lead this mission."

Silence conquered the room again. The machines kept quietly buzzing while the little dribbles of ink could be heard splashing on the parchment rolling out of the scribe servitor.

"I volunteer." Emma said it again, as if no one heard it the first time.

"I see." Conrad made a personal note of it.

"Out of the question." Galatea said.

"Why?"

"Because we are about to be besieged by the Forces of Chaos. You want to leave us to fend for ourselves while you chase after some bauble we aren´t even certain of exists?" Galatea´s voice became powerful and stone like.

"Leparios estimation says I can be spared."

"Three Sisters of the Hawk!" Galatea closed her fist. "Not a Palatine!"

"I don´t care. I will go."

The look that spread across Galatea´s face was an uncomfortable reflection of what Emma had seen in the Canoness´ black eyes. "Why are you so eager to throw your life away in vain while the rest of us die?"

Emma didn´t answer. What could she say? Her reason was proof of her taint. Proof of her lies.

"I will chain you to ground if I hear any more of this nonsense, Emma." Galatea kept both her flesh eye and her metal eye pinned on Emma.

"We will have it presented to the Sisters of the Talons." Anna said. "They can still volunteer."

"Fine." Galatea said.

"And I will lead them."

" _Go! Go!_ " The raven shouted.

"Standard Bearer," Garius feed his raven a piece of bread. "Do you truly believe this is a good idea?"

"I am not a commander of any companies." She looked over at Galatea. "The Hawk has had four heads for some time. For now, it can survive without it´s lesser one."

Emma looked at Anna. Her fists trembled under the table. _I will survive this battle. And come to your aid, Anna. I will be the one who brings the STC back to the Imperium._

"So be it." Conrad said. "Gather the Sisters of the Talons. See if any of them are willing for this mission."

Baldwick made a note of it.

"On to the battle plans." Garius said.

* * *

The Talons Company gathered in one of the great halls of the Cathedral. It was normally used as a training ground for new recruits into the order, but now it held the over three hundred kneeling Sisters of the Hawk. Their Palatine watched them all in quiet with folded arms.

"Sisters of the Talons." Galatea addressed them. "As we prepare ourselves to give our lives for Emperor and his Imperium, there is another mission that demands you. As some of you know, we have found the coordinates for an STC on the Inquisitor´s ship. They point the STC to a dead world inside the border of the Eye of Terror. The Standard Bearer of the Hawk as already volunteered to lead this mission. We only have room for two more. All who are willing, rise now."

Only one sister rose. "I volunteer." She said. Her voice was timid and soft compared to the stoicism that formed Galatea´s voice.

"Sister Superior Johana." Galatea nodded. "Anyone else?"

Her face was hidden by her helmet. When ever one of her sisters looked at her, they only saw an unflinching face of metal and ceramite. But when Johana looked into her sister´s eyes, she seemed to know the emotions that the helmet was hiding. Johana smiled and nodded at her Palatine.

"Anyone else?" Galatea asked a second time.

Another sister rose. Slower than Johana. She took several short pauses as if she was about to regret standing up several times before she finally looked the Palatine of the Tail in the eye. Emma recognized this one as well.

 _Aline._ Emma thought. _I told you that you only have one life. And now you prepare to spend it on getting an STC for the Imperium._

"Name?" Galatea asked.

"Aline of the Talons."

"Superior Johana and Sister Aline. Come forth and swear your oaths to the Emperor. Then you will prepare to depart before the Forces of Chaos reach us."

"The rest of you are dismissed." Emma said. "Return to your duties."

It took them at least a half hour before the sisters had left. Only Galatea, Aline, Johana and Emma remained. Aline and Johana kneeled before the two palatines.

Galatea prepared sacred ink and blessed parchment. "Do you swear to dedicate your lives and fate to retrieving the STC?"

"By the Blood of the Hawk and the Emperor of Mankind, I, Johana of the Talons, will dedicate my life and faith to this holy mission."

Galatea etched scribing's onto the parchment and sealed the text to Johana´s shoulder with red vax.

Aline repeated the words and Galatea repeated to process.

"Make your prayers and cite and remember your vows." Galatea said as she stepped back from Aline. "You are going into the Eye of Terror. A place where reality shifts and wavers. The flow of time itself can be convoluted. You may enter the Eye now and return a hundred years later or you may return mere moments after you left. Regardless of how long it takes, we will keep you in our prayers. We will expect you to return."

Aline and Johana nodded.

"You are both dismissed." Galatea said. She and Aline were leaving when Galatea paused to notice both Johana and Emma staying behind.

"I wish to share some words with my Sister Superior." Emma said.

Galatea made a quick nod and left with Aline.

Johana and Emma stared at each other. Emma removed her helmet.

"What are you doing?" Emma said through clenched teeth.

"I am granting you the glory you need to see your son." Johana said it in a calm, soothed voice. A faint smile grasped her lips.

"How are you going to make the Emperor remark on my deeds when you´re the one doing it?"

"We are sisters in faith, Emma. I will make the Emperor know of both of our deeds. In his eyes, I will wash away the shame, so you can see your son. And I can be there to see it." Johana said it with such certainty and ease. Like she was making a promise to pray at the altar for at least an hour.

"Johana…" Emma grasped her sister by the shoulders. "Do you understand what you are doing? What kind of place you are heading into?"

"I know, and it doesn´t matter." Johana said. "Nothing will stop me. My vow to you is more holy to me than the vow I have taken to the Emperor." She placed a hand on her sister´s neck, but Emma backed away. Her sister was about to take a full step backwards when her armored foot stopped less than halfway through.

"Our vows to Emperor are more important than our lives, Johana." Emma said. "The Emperor stands above us all." She shook her head. "Don´t forsake his sacred name for mine."

Johana smiled again. "Of course, not. My Palatine."

Emma took her sisters hands. Johana´s fingers rested gently between her hands as Emma started gently stroking her fingers with her thumbs.

"You want to forbid me from going." Johana said.

"I want to." Emma stared down at Johana´s hands.

Johana lifted her sisters chin. "I will return. And I will bring the STC. We are sisters in faith. We share our deeds. This deed will overshadow every sin we have committed."

"But why do you have to suffer for it?"

"Because you can´t."


	67. Chapter 64

The black rose chapter 64

Over the first week, they prepared. Over the second, they waited. On the third week, they dreaded.

Twenty thousand Imperial soldiers were spread around the Capital. A ring of tanks and artillery behind them. Half-buried in trenches, they eat, drank, slept and defecated in the bunkers and self-made holes. They would take any chance they could to eat some rations or drink some of the brew that they made from distills that they would hide beneath boxes of ammo. They had good reason to hide them. While the front itself was quiet, sisters and wolves patrolled and plodded in those trenches, though the later was far more lenient then the former. But even the sisters looked soft in the eyes of the guardsmen when compared to the ones they truly feared.

"Sister." The guardsman greeted Emma with a stiff salute as she walked through the muddy trench. "Palatine of the Talons." He added once he noticed the wolf´s head on her shoulder.

"At ease, guardsman." Emma gestured.

He nodded and ran past Emma to hurry back to his bunker. Before long she heard the sound of pots hitting the ground and glass shattering. Curses quickly followed only to be answered with dead silence.

Emma walked up the entrance to the bunker. She found four guardsmen blankly staring at her. _They look like the enemy has just stepped into the bunker._

"At ease, guardsmen."

They blinked and stared at each other. None dared to say a word.

"Destroy that distillery before the commissars find it."

"You are the Palatine of the Talons, are you not?" The oldest one of them said. Though the eye lenses of her helmet coated everything in a shade of red, the bright color of his beard and the wrinkles on his face made him stand out from the rest of his comrades.

"Yes." Emma answered, a little perplexed by the question.

"The Merciful Sister and Friend of Wolves." He pointed to the wolf´s head.

"Is that what you call me out here?" Emma asked.

"Yep." He got up from his bed. "They also say that the tales of your mercy can only be matched by your beauty."

Emma´s lip twitched.

"Say, Sister, won't you be show us some mercy and take of your helmet." He approached. "Some of us want to see what his hidden underneath."

He hit the ground with shattered teeth and a bleeding nose. Emma hardly knew that she threw the punch. Her fist found his face so fast that she heard the broken teeth plinking of her armor before she knew what happened.

The other guardsmen stared at her with the same terror they had shown before.

"Mercy is earned and given." Emma said. "Not taken and claimed." She looked over at the other guardsmen. "Make sure it's gone before I come back."

"The same holds true for punishments." A croaked voice said as Emma was leaving. She looked to her side and found a man dressed in a black leather coat. It was long and decorated. At first glance he reminded her of Conrad but when she looked up, past his head, the cap resting on his temples revealed a different duty serving a similar role.

"Commissar."

"Palatine of the Talons." He made a slight nod. "I´m commissar Kleber. I shall see to it that they are punished properly."

Emma glanced behind her and saw the men frozen with fear. She could even spot a dark spot growing on the breeches on of the men.

"Only one of them acted out of line." Emma said. "And I´ve already punished him."

"Living up to your title." The commissar said with amusement in his voice. "But I fear a broken nose is not enough to stop him from misbehaving a second time."

Before Emma could say anything further the commissar pulled his boltgun from his belt and fired a round that exploded in the man´s chest.

"That will stop him."

Emma stared back at the corpse. She stared at the smoking hole in his chest and his comrades who had only moved once the gun was fired. She looked back at commissar Kleber.

"You think me cruel. Don´t you?"

Emma didn´t answer.

"What I do is no cruelty. It is a necessity. If he acts out of line now, he is more likely to do so when the fighting starts. It only takes one weak link in the chain to break it."

 _You assume a lot._ "What will happen to the rest of them?"

"I can see that they have already acted out of line but not as grievously as their comrade." He holstered his boltgun. "I will merely have them sent to tunnel duties instead. The best cure for an idle mind is fulfilling the Emperor´s work."

The guardsmen relaxed.

 _They would be better of dying by his bolter. They will spend the rest of their lives in darkness, exhausted and drenched in mud until the wall collapses on them._

"Would you question my judgement?" Kleber asked.

"I would." Emma said. "Their idleness would be much better quenched by prayers and patrols."

Kleber sighed. "You may be merciful, but it seems your other title holds just as much truth."

"The Fool." Emma said.

"Indeed." He proudly proclaimed. "There a few things you should know about fools."

"They don´t consider their actions? They don´t act recklessly without regarding the consequences? They ignore every lecture they are given?"

"Aren´t you the expert?" Kleber said. "Well regardless, I´ll only give you one lecture about fools. It´s simple so you should be able to remember it."

"What it is?" Emma asked, hoping he give up and leave.

"The Imperium wasn´t built by them." Kleber smiled slyly.

Emma grunted and turned to leave but stopped herself. "Punishments aren´t…" She looked up.

Fire rained from the sky.

Kleber turned. "Meteors." He said, dismissively.

"Those aren´t meteors." Emma opened the main vox-channel. "They are here. Drop pods are ascending on the eastern front. Prepare for assault. I repeat, drops pods are entering the atmosphere."

"… _planetary battle fleet is engaging. Heretical forces engaged above the capital. Expect imminent drop pods._ "

"Cursed latency." Emma grabbed hold of commissar Kleber. "Sound the alarm. Make sure everyone knows what´s coming."

"At your command, palatine." He turned to the guardsmen. "You heard her! Sound the alarm sirens and prep your lasguns. Hurry! They will be here within minutes!"

The guardsmen started scrambling. One man fell out of his bunk-bed and forgot his helmet while another activated the sirens as the rest of them tossed their equipment on.

" _Eastern front. This is the 34_ _th_ _tank division. We have incoming heretical forces descending from drop pods and sky-rangers. Permission to shoot?"_

"Granted." Emma said. She stared upwards. At the pods descending. Dark purple with glimmers of what looked like gold coated in white flames. It was a scene the likes of which she had only seen once before but on a much smaller scale.

Orbital cannons fired, and their shells birthed little puffs of orange smoke but few if any hit their sinking targets. The pods grew quickly. Birthing from the black clouds above, they came in a torrent, like rain. Emma only had time to draw a few breaths before they crashed into the ground.

"Guardsmen," Emma released her mag-locked boltgun. "Prepare a fire line."

"We are going to die." One of them whimpered.

Kleber boltgun clicked. "Then you will die in service to the Emperor."

 _I am not dying today._ Emma thought. " _We_ are not going to die to today." She looked behind her shoulder. "We are going to hold the line and drive them off."

"Get up there!" Kleber shouted as he shepherded them with his gun. "I want this line to hold. And if it falters it is not the enemy you should fear."

Several of the guardsmen started tripping and stumbling as they readied their weapons. One of them fell headfirst into the dirt. He managed to get to his feet before Kleber could notice but not without his face caked in mud.

Emma grabbed him by the shoulder. "How old are you soldier?"

"Twenty-two, Palatine."

"How long have you been serving the Imperial Guard?"

He swallowed and went quiet.

"How long?"

"F- fifteen days."

Emma turned to other guardsmen.

"Ten." One of them said.

"Twenty." Another one said.

The rest of them made nods and gestures that confirmed their duty to have been just as long as the others.

Emma gasped with a frown.

She took Kleber by the arm. "You put the inexperienced recruits at the front lines?"

"The quicker they bleed the better. And if they die their loss is insignificant."

 _Bastards._ Emma cursed. When Sophia looked over the plans she was smiling. Now Emma knew why. _The Talons always fight at the front. She hopes that I am going to die along with the guardsmen._

"Talons." Emma opened a closed vox-line that only her company could hear. "Do not shift your positions. The line must be held. The Capital will not fall this day. That day may come. There may come a time when the walls collapse, but it is not this day. There may come a day when we all die. A day when the Imperium falls to ruin and the forces of Chaos feast on it, but it is not this day. This day we fight! We fight for the Emperor. This day we defend our homeworld. This day we face the forces that have spilled into our reality. This day we remember the most sacred gift the Emperor has granted us. Our lives. They are given to us by the Emperor and they are the greatest things you can return to Him. They are is His gifts and currency. My sisters, ready our bolters and draw your swords and spend our lives wisely."

"… _by the Blood of the Hawk…_ "

" _By His holy decree and will._ "

" _We stand by the Emperor."_

The answers kept pouring through.

Her heart started razing. She stared upwards and imagined the Eye of Terror behind the black clouds dominating the sky. _Johana… survive wherever you are. Survive and come back…. Come back._

The guardsmen prepared the defenses and mounted a heavy bolter behind a wall of sandbags. Kleber waited behind them, his boltgun resting one hand. A chainsword in the other.

Emma stared forward. More pods crashed into the ground. Clouds of dust birthed from the impacts. Blocking sight in all its forms. Her finger rested on the trigger of her boltgun, pressing it down to the point of the weapons almost firing only for her finger to rise again.

"Heavy bolter," The muddy guardsmen hammered in a ribbon of ammo into the feeding gap. "Mounted and ready."

Emma put her hand on the weapon. She looked over at the ammunition box. "How many do we have?"

"Twelve hundred bolts in this crate, sister. Got another under my bed."

"Hold fire." Emma said. "Wait until you can see them."

 _Five magazines._ Emma went over her own munitions. _Three crack grenades. Four frag grenades. One plasma grenade. And a bolt-pistol._ She put a hand on her sword and pressed down on the activation rune.

 _Bwwwwwooooomooomooomooomom!_

Sharp as a needle and large as a tidal wave, the tune birthed of twisted instruments tore through the brown mist. Brilliant and hateful, the tone ripped the vail of the dust away and revealed its performer as Emma felt the bones in her body thrummed in tune with the macabre melody.

Taller than the wolves, giants in purple armor sprinted forth with steps that seemed more like a dance than a coordinated attack. Some of them wielded cannons that spat forth visible waves of force that rippled the air in rings of bright white. Others carried swords. And others carried bolters similar to hers. They all screamed with anticipation and joy.

The guardsmen flinched to their knees as they clutched their ears and cried in agony. She heard one of them praying that the Emperor should descend and end this agony for them.

Emma grabbed one of them and bent his hands from his head and put them on the heavy bolter. "Open fire!"

Her bolter started kicking in her arms, its brethren joined her the second later.

Zooming with her armor´s cogitator, Emma could see the exploding shells blasting craters into the outer layers of cerematie armor. Some found their ways into the weak spots of their armor and busted large chunks of meat away. It did not seem to matter to them. They ran forth with a speed that matched the wolves.

"They´re almost on top of us!"

Emma couldn´t tell who said it. She tore an empty magazine from her bolter and slammed a fresh on in. "Basilisk unit one." She voxed. "Fire."

A salvo rained down from above. The ground shock moments after each shell hit. Then the second explosion came. Tossing dirt ten meters into the air, the shells of the basilisk shells had activated the mines buried before the trenches.

Any human close to the blasts would have been obliterated. Gone before an eye could blink. These men were flung into the air. Yanked upwards and sideways depending on where the blast came from. But they hit the ground with thick thuds. They cried at first, but it soon transformed into maniacal laughter. Blood oozed from cracks and folds in their armor. It was thick and dark. Bones were twisted and bent out of shape. Faces and helmets had sometimes visibly caved in. They looked at their wounds and laughed all the same as their bellowing instruments unleashed another wave of sonic blasts.

"Fire!" Emma shouted. "Don´t let any of them get close!"

The rain from the skies returned. The pods landed closer. The clouds kicked up from the impact blocked their sight of the front line.

Emma´s finger kept hugging the trigger. Even when the bolter went silent and stopped kicking, her hand refused to relax. When she reloaded, she had to pry her finger loose and pin it against the trigger guard so the weapon wouldn´t start firing the moment she put a fresh magazine in.

"Heavy bolter´s empty!" Shouted a guardsman. "Hurry up and fetch the other box!" He took his own lasgun and sent crimson darts into the mist along with his fellow guardsmen.

Emma looked around and found that none of the guardsmen had moved to get the ammobox. They all kept their still, pointing their lasguns over the sandbags while keeping their heads beneath the edge. The only one keeping his head above the edge and properly aiming was Kleber with his boltgun.

Acting partially out of impulse, and partially with frustration, Emma left her position and ran back into the guardsmen hideout. Crushing the dead man beneath her armored boots upon entering, she flipped the bunker beds over and found the box beneath the second one she turned over.

The box was big, and heavier than Emma had expected. She slipped on the blood pooled on the dry floor the first time she tried lifting it. Her legs strained when she tried it a second time but she was quickly standing straight and heading back to the guardsmen.

The force of a tidal wave knocked her down and the box crashed down on her chest. It was a noise that made it. A noise that made her armor tremble and rang in her ears. The sand and blood splashed over her. Emma heaved the box of her chest. The guardsmen rolled down into the trench, clutching their ears and wincing with pain. But none of them were wounded enough to cause the rain of blood Emma had gotten on her.

A pair of legs rolled down into the trench.

"Kleber." Emma said once she looked at the belt buckle.

The heavy bolter was smashed to oblivion. The pipe was bent outwards, as if a bolt round had exploded inside the pipe.

"Talons squad three!" Emma voxed her sisters. "We need reinforcements. Head to my position."

" _We´re coming._ "

Emma stopped her response. Her hand reached for the sword and blade was released with metallic hiss. She pressed the rune and it screamed.

He was tall. No helmet on his head and his armor´s pauldrons were twisted into the shape of gaping, screaming faces, the shape of a faint golden eagle wing seemingly hidden beneath the malformed flesh. His exposed belly was pink-grey with thick veins pressing against the skin. His mouth was an abyss that stretched down to his neck. Needle-shaped teeth sprouted from the edge and a thick black tongue stretched outwards, licking the blood running from a gash on his forehead.

Eyes, black as the void and just as empty stared at Emma.

"For the Emperor!" He shouted, mockingly. "May he forever rot on his golden throne!"

The free hand moved for the bolt-pistol. Something that was never going to slip past his senses.

He lunged for Emma and pinned her to the wall with his clawed hand. Emma felt the impact from her back to the tip of her fingers. When she opened her eyes, his hideous face consumed her vision.

" _Scream_! Scream for me!" He cried in agony.

Her helmet filled with the sound of ceramite cracking. _He´s trying to crush me._

The claws dug their way through the armor in seconds. Then they started pressing down on her chest. Emma raised her sword, but a hand mangled by mutation caught her arm and held it in place. Even as she pushed to the point of her muscles straining, it didn´t move out of place.

"Show me your _pain_!"

The pressure did not let up. The claws kept digging. They where at her ribcage now. Blood started running down her sides. She drew her bolt pistol and hammered the trigger while pointing to his stomach.

He howled a scream that was a mutilated, corrupt incarnation of a human scream. He gorged thick black blob from his maw. The claws pulled back and the bolt-pistol stopped kicking.

Emma slammed the but the pistol into his head. He staggered but he still held her in his grip. She hit him again. And again, and again. the grip loosening a little each time.

She started wiggling her sword arm and as his grip weakened, she swung the blade to his side. His armor gave resistance, but it was not enough to stop the crackling blade. His arms collapsed, and Emma was released.

Freed, she dropped her empty pistol and clutched her stomach as she leaned against the wall. Her breath was close to a pant while he grunted.

His chest was torn open and his head was dented inwards. Yet he still lived. The blood flowing from the wound in his chest had already stopped. The one eye that hadn´t been crushed grew small and a tear rolled from it. He put one knee forward and rasped through his maw.

Emma took her sword with both hands and swung with her entire body. The blade cut through his exposed neck like wet clay. The swing stopped when she hit the wall and his head rolled into the mud.

It hurt to breath. She was panting. Her breath picked up and the pain grew.

Boots slamming into the ground. The humming of armor gears. They were coming closer.

Emma rammed her sword into the ground and leaned on it. Like a cane.

A guardsman was rising.

"Where are they?" He shouted while trying to raise his visibly broken arm. "What is happening?"

"Prepare for another attack!" Emma commanded with her vox-grill amplifying her voice. She pulled a few of to their feet. "If you have bayonets, fix them! If you have swords, draw them! They are coming!"

It sounded like a stampede. As all of the Traitor Marines had decided to attack this spot and ignore all other targets.

 _I´ll fight them all. I´ll outlast every single one of them._

Four of them stood on the trench lip now. Twisted like their brother, they carried viscous and hideous mutations. Some of their limbs had extended to slithering tentacles. Others had multiple sets of eyes, tongues pressing out of folds where flesh and armor merged. The weapons they held pulsed with an aura of anticipation.

Emma raised her sword….

And a hail of bolter fire answered. Blasts tore away their armor. And they cried in response.

"Blood of the Hawk!"

A grenade flew above the trench. It bounced of the destroyed sandbag barricade and rolled down at the Traitor Marines' feet.

"Take cover!" Emma pressed herself against the trench wall.

The explosion made the ground quiver. A short shower of dirt rained down.

"Palatine!"

Up on the trench, Emma found her Sister Elanor.

"Take up position by the sandbags!" Emma sheathed her sword and found her bolter on the ground. "Reform the firing line!"

Sisters and guardsmen hurried. The sisters´ armor was visibly dented and damaged but none of them showed any injuries.

Guardsmen were never as blessed. Some of them where deaf by bleeding ears. Others stood up only to collapse on broken bones. Of the five that had been in the bunker to begin with, only two could still fight.

There was no hospitaler with her sisters, even if they might have been hesitant to treat a guardsman. Medics where nowhere to be seen. Emma had patrolled at least a dozen kilometers around the trench and not seen a single one.

 _Why waste the medicine to heal a guardsman when threat of a single bolt to the back of the head will keep them going?_

She ordered two of her sisters to carry the wounded soldiers back to their beds.

They formed a line behind the shattered sandbags. At least half of it was blown of, leaving only enough to room to be crouch behind.

 _Bwwoooomoomoomooom!_

The booming music returned.

" _Louder! Unleash the sweet cacophony of the Prince of Pleasure! Sing the songs of Slaanesh!_ "

Her armor drummed with the waves of the sound. Despite the cogitator deafening the noise, the ceramite screamed with the waves of the music. She winced through clenched teeth and closed eyes as the wounds in her sides stung.

"Take out the noise marines!" Emma commanded. She pried her hands from clutching her head and put her bolter above the sandbags.

He was close. No more then ten meters away from the trench. He was bright pink, standing before clouds of grey, yet he was a blur to Emma´s eyes. The image of him was shaking, vibrating. Each burst of noise warped her vision of him.

She pressed the trigger. The bolter kicked.

He laughed. " _Listen to the ecstasy of Slaanesh! Listen to her songs!_ "

Nausea started taking hold. Her stomach twisted and turned against her. She dived back down behind the bags and found her sisters clutching their heads.

" _Can you hear us over this noise?!_ "

She tore the grenades of her belt. She couldn´t tell the kinds apart. Sight blurred. She pulled the pins of one of them and flung the belt above her head.

The explosion pushed a wave of sand over her head. The noise stopped.

Her stomach still clenched. Her sides still stung like acid was under her skin. Yet, the release was soothing. She heaved for breaths as if she had been on the verge of drowning.

"Elanor!" Emma gave her sister a kick.

She turned over and pushed herself up with her hands on the ground.

"Get your squad back into formation!"

"Yes, Palatine."

Emma dragged herself to the edge. She crawled on her stomach and made sure her head never peaked above the sandbags.

The rain of pods had ceased. The sky, dark and blanked by clouds glowing like embers only dropped blackened water.

She peaked over the edge and had to stop herself from emptying the bolter into the sandbags. "Emperor´s grace…"

They screamed, cried, howled and laughed all at once. Crazed. Mad. Heretics. The words mixed and jumbled in her head. They were twisted, corrupted. They were traitors to the Imperium of Man. The Imperium that has lasted for more than ten thousand years. But there was still one more word that echoed when Emma saw them. Astartes.

The music returned. She couldn´t count them. Even from a distance, her cogitator shriveled by the eldritch noise generated by the sonic cannons.

"Orders, Palatine?"

It was Elanor who asked. "We hold the line." Emma said without turning. "We brace for their impact and we fight them off."

"Formation?"

Her sides stung again. "The Sixth Feather." Emma turned to find the guardsmen. "You two on the far sides of the flank."

"Is it going to be tough?" Asked one of them.

Emma looked at him. He wasn´t young, like the others. He seemed to be a few dozen winters above her. A thick forehead and a scared nose with strings of black hair peaking out from his cracked helmet.

"What´s your name, guardsman?" Emma asked.

"Dougla." He answered.

Through her helmet´s glowing red visors, Emma looked at him. She knew he was older than her, yet she felt decades above him. "Dougla. It is going to be tough. But if you run, it will be worse. For you and everyone else." Emma addressed the rest of her sisters. "Fleeing is not an option."

Dougla seemed to half-smile. His broken nose snorted through a hole above the nostrils.

Emma put her hand on his shoulder. "The Emperor protects."

"Sure, but a squad of the Sisters of the Hawk along with the Wolf-Skin Palatine doesn´t hurt."

 _I´m not sure if we will._ Emma punched a magazine into the bolter. _We must._ "Prepare to…"

"What is it?" Elanor asked. "What´s wrong?"

"They haven´t moved." The cogitator scanned the distance. "They´re heading back."

"They´re running away!" Declared one of the guardsmen. "They´re retreating!" He cried in joy as he hugged Dougla.

"Why would they be…?"

" _Attention,_ " The vox hailed. " _Heretical war-ship has been incapacitated. It´s plummeting. Breaching the atmosphere now._ "

The ground shook. A shadow devoured the light. A leviathan of metal and flames breached from the sky and dived to the ground. Any tower or spire in its path was cut through like a chainsword chewing through grass. It groaned as flames flickering like white glowing ribbons licked the hull.

" _Run_!" Emma commanded. "Into the bunker!"

They ran. The guardsmen where the first. They had not reached the trench lip and where the furthest behind. Emma´s sisters came after them. Emma herself was last.

"Palatine!" Elanor shouted. "Come into the bunker!"

Emma ignored her. She´d dropped her bolter and dragged two of the still life but unmoving guardsmen to the bunker.

"Emperor´s arse!" Dougla headed out to help her. He tossed one of his comrades over his shoulders and took the arm of another. "Help us!"

Elanor raised her bolter and took aim for shoot Dougla in the leg. Emma only saw him collapse to the ground clutching his leg before Elanor fired on the two guardsmen she was carrying.

Elanor lowered her weapon as the shadow grew thicker. "Into the bunker!"

Emma tossed the still screaming Dougla over her shoulders and ran.

The sudden force of an anvil knocked Emma to the ground.


	68. Chapter 65

The black rose chapter 65

"How much further?" Sergeant Garbo asked as a gust of air blew across his face. The black rain had left the guardsmen with a sour taste in their mouths and the harsh wind was constantly tossing it into their faces. The sisters, sealed in their armor, were less bothered by the same problems.

Anna didn´t need to check her cogitator. She planted the banner in the ground and pointed forwards. "Look." She said. "It´s just beyond the canyon."

"By the Emperor…" Garbo wiped the rain of his face.

"We are almost there." Sisters Superior Johana said. "We are almost there…"

The fortress sat silent. Growing out of the side of the mountain, it watched over the valley without a keeper. Though the mountain was black rock, the ancient construction was bone white. Where the mountain showed scars and tearing from weather, the white fortress was pristine and unchipped. The material even showed sings of extension, as if it had slowly grown outwards like the roots of a tree.

 _How old can this be?_ Anna wondered. _And who built it?_

The journey into the Eye of Terror had been simpler than expected. While the Warp was never silent during a storm like this, the navigator had taken them through from their star-system to the marked coordinates in what they experienced to be just a few weeks. Even if they had been weeks of constantly hearing the screams and songs of the Warp constantly claw on the border of the Gellar fields. They had only traveled with a small ship, limiting the crew and making it simple for the sisters to purge those that fell to the corrupting streams outside their hulls. _Those that fall can only be absolved by sacred glowing promethium._

"What are you doing?" Johana asked.

"We are preparing to rest." Anna answered.

"We´re close to the fortress. We could reach it within a few hours-"

Anna cut her off. "We have walked for three days without rest. The guardsmen are exhausted. We don´t know what's in there. Xenos or heretic, or worse. We need to be prepared and rested."

"I am Sister Superior of the Talons, and I say we head over now."

"I am the Standard Bearer of the Hawk." Anna said. "If you are going to use your rank, you should remember where you stand."

Johana didn´t pick up the argument. Though there was an aura of anger from her. She refused to help as Anna and the rest of the sisters helped the guardsmen set up camp. She took a candled altar from her belongings and prepared her own bed some ways from them. Anna could hear her pray and make promises.

"What do you think we´ll find?" Garbo asked as he was passing out shares of warmed nutria-water.

"Like I said, we don´t know." Anna answered. "There where no records of this place besides it being possible that it housed an STC." _At least not anything we were shown, or where allowed to see._

"Well," Garbo said between spoons of steaming soup. "Let´s pray that that´s all we´ll find in there."

"Do you suspect it will be easy?" Anna asked.

"I hope so."

"The Emperor takes little head of those that have it simple."

"The Emperor´s blessing I can take our leave, it's the glory that concerns me more."

Anna had tough time liking the guardsmen that had decided to follow them. The wolves may have had brutish mannerisms to them, but they where honest and loyal beyond doubt. _And they somehow smelled better than these men._

"Do you think that is what it is all about?" Aline asked. "Do you think its all about gaining glory, so you can live a soft life?"

"How course its about glory." Garbo answered nonchalantly. "We are just looking for different kinds of glory. I am looking for the glory and fame from the Imperium. You," Garbo pointed at Aline. "Are here looking for glory and fame from the Emperor."

"You dare liken your quest to your vain goal of wealth?" Aline was getting angry.

Garbo leaned back. "Wealth, glory, honor… same thing, different form."

"Some are purer than others." Anna said.

"True. Some are also have more taste than others." Garbo licked some of the soup from his lips. "But at the end of it, does it matter what we are hoping to gain as long as we fight for the Imperium and the Emperor?"

"It's a strange thing about that word; But." Anna said. "Whether it's a cursed or blessed word seems to change depending one who uses it. The one thing that remains true about it is that no one who says that word gives any weight to what they say before it."

"Well spoken sister." Aline congratulated Anna.

Garbo snorted. "Where did you grow up, sister?" He asked Anna.

Anna didn´t answer.

"I´m guessing you grow up among and were raised with your sisters. Taught of to properly wield your sword and read every sacred scroll you keep in your chambers. You where taught how to fight with honor and courage."

"You are right. I was taught how to fight with honor and courage."

"Well, I grew up in the slums of a hive. My father tried to murder my mother because she tried hiding some food. She cut his throat open… and left me alone in that block. I don´t know how many suns passed. You see, it's always hard to see down there. But I survived and worked my way around brutes bigger than me and beat up those smaller than me. If you can learn that, you start to like power and wealth." Garbo showed a toothed grin.

"I have also read enough scrolls to satisfy the curiosity of most scholars. But there was one scroll I came across not to long ago, there was little special about it, apart from the final sentence." Anna removed her helmet. "It said that every life, be it tainted by heresy or purified by the Emperor´s light, has a story to it. Every story has a lesson to it. So, I wonder, what did you learn from that? What did you learn from your mother killing your father only to abandon you?"

"That if you want something in life, you are going to have to take it from someone else." Garbo said. "And you are going to have to fight to keep it to yourself."

"I remember the slums too." Anna said once Garbo smile had reached its peak. "I recall having to fight for every scrap and every piece of food I could get my hands on."

Garbo fell silent.

Now it was Anna´s turn to grin. "I don´t remember my parents. I´m pretty sure they abandoned me. But then again, how is that much different from you. Or the numerous children that grow up in the pits of our Hive Cities. I kept doing what you did, survived. The difference between you and me is that I always knew the Emperor was watching. I knew He would punish me in this life or the next. He always does with those that defy His decree. But He also knows who His loyal servants are, and who are simple slime. I was saved from a gang by a squad of Sororitas. They purged them with blessed glowing promethium. They came to close to burning me, when the sister pointing the muzzle of her flamer at me hesitated. I can´t remember her face, her armor or anything about her. But I remember the ignition flame. No larger than the flame that sits on the tip of a candle, and yet it was the catalyst of such raw power.

"She pushed the flame so close I could fell its heat on my cheek, and asked me a simple question; Do you fear the Emperor´s wrath, child?" Hidden by her armor, Annas skin prickled at the memory. She looked at Garbo. _Do you fear the Emperor´s wrath?_

"I take it that you said, yes." Garbo said.

"No." Anna shacked her head. "I didn´t say anything. I was too scared. She grabbed me by the tug of my shirt and lifted me up. She asked me again; Do you fear the Emperor´s wrath? I don´t remember much of what happened after." Anna lied. She remembered the rest clearly. She cried as tears started rolling down her cheeks and water started trickling from between her legs. "Then I was taken as an initiate. I was trained in the arts of war and the purity of faith. I discarded all desires and abandoned any family I had. Upon giving swearing my life the Emperor of Mankind, I pledge my life to the glory and purity of His Imperium. And as you can see, I have been pretty good at it."

Garbo curled his lips.

"Do you know what I learned from that?"

"I get the feeling you are about to tell me."

"I learned why the Emperor´s glory greater than any wealth in the galaxy."

"Why?"

"Because it can never be stolen, and it never has to be guarded."

Garbo sighed and shrugged. "But can it buy me a soft bed, roasted meat, dark-red wine or… top class entertainment?"

"Once you die, the Emperor will reward you beyond your wildest dreams."

"I´m willing to wait that long."

 _You may not have to._


	69. Chapter 66

The black rose chapter 66

Stale, dry air and soft darkness. A gentle, slow heartbeat drummed in her ears. Her hand closed into a fist. Dirt spilled between her fingers. Muscles pulled and ached. She smiled. Pain meant she lived. Her eyes opened. The dark remained. Her cogitator shifted through multiple forms of sight. It stopped on a form that covered everything in a green haze, but granted it form. Emma pushed her hands into the ground. It felt heavy to push upwards. Emma made a new push and felt a slab of dirt shifting on her back. She leaned to one side and the rock slipped of her with a loud thud. It still hurt to breath. Every breath was a stab. She laid still on her back, hands resting by her side. Her heart pounded. The recycled air in her armor dried her throat. She tried swallowing but gagged when stagnant oxygen was the only thing she could push down.

Heaving, Emma pulled herself up until she was sitting. The roof was high above her. It was made of metal, that much she could tell by sight. It was silent. She looked around her. Memories started crawling back.

 _Elanor… Ship… Crashed. I am trapped underneath the ship._ She sat down, and everything became a cold silence again.

"Elanor? Dougla? Anyone?"

Silence was her answer.

Emma checked her belt. The sword was still there. She drew it and pressed the rune. The lighting that darted across the blade covered everything in a bright, harsh blue light. Through the sight of her light sensitive filter, it was outright blinding. She covered her eyes and waited for the cogitator to switch sight.

Frail and meek, a groan came from behind her.

"Palatine?" A hand rose from the dirt only to cough when he spoke.

 _Dougla._ Emma crouched down next to him. She gently put her hand underneath his head. Though most of him was covered in dirt, his legs where pinned beneath a rock that was trapped by the hull of the ship.

Squinting, he turned to look at her. There was a hint of relief on his face that was swiftly swept away once he saw the rock. "You can move this right?"

Emma shook her head.

"No, you can move it." Dougla insisted.

"I´m sorry. I can´t."

Dougla´s breath intensified. "You can…" It didn´t take him long to be panting. "No…." He grunted through clenched teeth. "Give me that sword! I´ll just cut of my legs and crawl out!"

Emma pulled her arm back.

"Give it to me!"

Emma held him down. "You´ll die if you try that."

"I´ll live!" He tried grabbling and pulling Emma down. She rammed her elbow into his face. Blood squirted from his collapsed nose. He buried his face in his hands.

"There´s nothing I can do. You´ll die either way."

Dougla´s panting faded to slow heaves for air. The blood pouring from his nose washed with tears. "Dammit." He whispered in a small voice. "Dammit. Dammit! Dammit! Dammit!" He pounded the ground with his fist until Emma heard bones cracking. He gasped and grounded his teeth.

Emma sat silently next to him. _I should cite a prayer. I should tell him that the Emperor will watch over his soul._ She wanted to tell him all of these things and more. Yet she sat quietly there. _I can´t lie. He is one amongst millions. One who jokes his faith away. One who wouldn´t stay in line by his own accord. How can the Emperor tell him apart from all the others like him?_

He looked at his broken hand. "I can´t fell it." He said. "I can´t feel any of it."

"It is the shock." Emma said. "It blankets pain." _But it will not last forever._

"I feel cold."

Emma stroked his cheek with her fingers. Dougla leaned into her hand. He took Emma´s arm to make sure she wouldn´t remove it.

"Is this where it ends?" Dougla asked.

"This is where you die." Emma answered. "I can´t say what comes beyond."

"Don´t you know?"

"It depends on you."

Blood sprayed in crimson dripples as Dougla laughed. "Then I´m done." He opened a pocket on his chest and produced a necklace with a silver feather. He pushed it into Emma´s hand. "Do you know what this is?"

"A feather of the Hawk."

"It´s the most valuable thing I own." He closed her hand. "You are the Merciful Palatine, so would you be merciful to me?"

"What do you want?"

"Take of your helmet and kiss me. Please, I just want to know what it feels like."

Emma pulled her hand back. She slowly removed her helmet. Her golden hair spilled over her armor. Dougla admired her with wide eyes and slow breaths. He swallowed a large gulp of blood. Emma looked at him with resting lips.

"I am Emma, Palatine of the Talons, the Merciful Sister and Friend of Wolves." Emma paused. "I am Emma, the lying whore."

"What? What are you talking about?"

"A long time ago… I gave birth to a child that never lived."

"So, what?"

"…I made a promise. I will make sure the Emperor´s notices my graces and needs, so that when I die, I will see my son again."

The blood that had dried in Dougla´s face, cracked as his face grimaced. "Do you honestly believe that?"

"To aim for His favor, one must serve through hell."

"You said you were a lying whore." Dougla took the necklace. "What difference will it make if you kiss me? What is one kiss against a great lie?"

"Everything."

"Dumb bitch." Dougla snapped. "Do you honestly think the Emperor ever pays any notice to anyone?! He just sits on his throne, rotting away while we toil and bleed for his great Imperium! To him we are nothing. I am nothing. You are nothing."

Emma didn´t say a word. She flung the necklace back at him.

Dougla took Emma´s arm and pulled her towards him with a new-found strength. They grappled. Dougla tried to pull her closer. He snarled through teeth covered in blood. He got so close Emma could smell his breath of unfiltered liquor and canned nutrient paste.

She struck with her arm again. She aimed for his face again. But her elbow came in first and landed below his chin.

A wincingly, high noise came from his throat. The sound of a man drawing breath through a thin tube. Dougla fell back and tore madly at his throat. His body became still as stone, but fingers clawed at the skin, scraping away the layers until he stopped moving and became silent.

Emma´s lungs heaved. She took the necklace from his chest and carefully lifted his head. Once it was on, she started praying.

"God-Emperor of Mankind, I beg you forgive this man for his sins. Take him into your grasp and watch over him." She tried to cite some words from the Lectitio Divinitatus. She had gone over the text so many times it was sealed in her head. _There must be something… something for men like him._

"Forgive him." Emma said and closed his eyes.

She picked up the sword and put her helmet back on. She had to bend her knees to walk. The metal was flat, with bolts the size of Hjalmar´s eyes to seal the plates together. It leaned forward, forcing to Emma crawl on her knees as she headed into the tunnel. The ground was damp and cold. Rocks hid themselves beneath the mud and she would often hit them with her knees. Though the armor took the worst, it didn´t take long for her knees to start aching with the collective impacts.

The roof above leaned ever more towards the mud-covered floor. Soon Emma squeeze forward on her belly. She kept the sword out in front of her. The light it produced was devoured by the floor but reflected harshly of the metal roof. The cogitator switched reduced it light intake and blocked the screams of the blade.

 _The mud might cover my visor._ Emma realized when she started crawling with her face just above the mud. The roof had gotten so low that her backpack was scrapping against the roof. The metal screeched bitterly each time Emma moved forward.

Was this a path forward? Was this the best path? Was she even in the trench anymore? Had she crawled into a channel formed by the ship that only led deeper into the ground?

Her sides pulsed. Slowly, starting as little prickly reminders of her wounds, but they quickly grew. Sharp, hot, stings squeezed the wounds traitor marine had given her. _Was that his plan? To poison me with his talons?_

A pulse of pain came as a response. Sweating profusely, Emma couldn´t tell her sweat from blood. She could only feel the moisture on her skin. She crawled forward. The only sounds to accompany her breath was the howls of the sword and the cries of her armor wearing against the hull. She crawled for what felt like hours. The mud grew deeper and the space grew tighter. The armor was sealed enough to able to withstand a vacuum. When her breathing grill was beneath the water, her cogitator switched in an instant. A time rune flashed red as it descended. Emma tilted her head to the side and managed to get half of the helm´s grill above the surface. Though the cogitator switched of the air reserve, it was still a struggle to take breaths.

Emma swung her sword out in front of her. The blade drifted through the mud and carved through rocks like they where dry twigs. She tried lifting her sword and the felt the tip just lifting before it hit the sip´s hull.

 _It is getting smaller._ She felt like cursing but saved her breath. What good would it do? _Is this what Johana felt? When she was trapped beneath the mud?_ Her helmet coughed and heaved. _It´ll clog if I don´t move._

She reached forward with her hand and pushed the mud in front of her to the side. She turned her sword and used the broad side of it to push more mud out of the way. She took only three heaves with both her arms before she dug her hand into the mud and pulled herself forward.

Her head sank into the mud. The grill was completely drowned, and the rune flashed up again. She started digging again. Her arms where sore. Her sides stung with each breath. Beads of sweat dripped of her skin and gathered into droplets that traveled down her face. Some would reach her paled lips and dried them with their salt. She dug faster than before. She dug until her hand grasped something solid. She pushed forward again.

Her head flung upwards and the grill gasped as it blew out dirt and water. The air that she inhaled was scolding and filled with black rain. It burned to inhale, is if it was filled with glowing embers. Her face fell back into the dirt as Emma pulled herself forward. Her arms cried. They wanted her to stop.

"Bloody…"

Emma heard someone shout. She raised her head and saw a guardsman stumbling away in a panic.

"Something´s crawling out of the wreckage!" He shouted to his sergeant.

The sergeant was quick to come over. He took Emma´s arm and pulled her free as his boots sank into the mud. Once she was free he helped her to her feet.

"Palatine of the Talons!" He greeted with sloppy salute. "Sergeant Roog, at your service."

"What´s the situation, sergeant?"

"Where under some bloody heavy assault." Roog tossed looks back at his squad. "The traitor marines keep coming from every hole in the ship. The Basilisks keep firing but I don´t know if they are doing much but pounding the hull."

Emma tried to figure out where she was. "What is your position?"

"Where about two miles from the southern gate, Palatine."

 _How long did I crawl?_ The question had to wait."Any idea of the status with the squads on the other side of the ship? Any contact?"

"No, Palatine." Roog said. "The vox has been acting up ever since the ship crashed. It probably knocked out an antenna on its way down."

"Get back to your men, sergeant. I´ll try and contact my sisters."

He performed an even sloppier salute and made his way to the firing line.

"Sisters of the Hawk." Emma vox-reached. The vox-network of the sisters ran on different, more powerful circuit system than the guardsmen´s. "This the Palatine of the Talons, respond."

" _Emma?_ " Galatea´s crackled in her ear. " _It´s good to hear you are alive._ "

"Are there any Talon units nearby?"

" _No most of them have abandoned the first trench. Everything north of the crashed ship is lost. The southern front won´t last much longer._ "

"What about the wolves? Where are they?"

" _Most of them have fallen back to the second trench as well. Emma, you need to fall back before the traitor marines swarm your position._ "

The choice was clear for her, though she did not like it. The guardsmen had little beyond thin flack armor to protect them from bolter rounds and sonic blasts. If they left the trench, few of them would make it to the other side. If they stayed, none of them would last long.

"Sergeant." Emma called for Roog. "Prepare to fall back!"

"Yes, Palatine. You heard her, grab anything you can carry and prepare to head back!"

Emma sheathed her sword and picked up a lasgun from a fallen guardsman. She had top give it a yank to get his stiff fingers to let go of the weapon.

"You know how to use that?" Roog asked.

Emma raised to the weapon to her shoulder and checked the aim. "I´ve used boltweapons since I was fourteen. I´ll manage it."

"Just don´t except to have the same punch."

The guardsman did grab everything they could. Emma saw them filling their pockets with lasgun charges and grenades. Some that where a bit bolder, or optimistic, snatched up every bottle of spirit if they could find. One or two of them invited their comrades to take a final drink before they took up positions for the retreat. Roog was eager to take his share. "Won´t you take a sip, Palatine?" He asked after heaving his head back to swallow a half-glass full of murky spirit. "A final drink before we die?"

"We do not die today, sergeant."

Roog shrugged and offered the liquor to his comrades. "Alright, make your final preparations. We are about to move!"

"Galatea," Emma voxed. "We will fall back the second trench. Can you provide cover from the artillery as we move?"

" _Yes. It will take about thirty seconds for the Basilisks and mortars to align themselves. Do not wait._ "

Emma confirmed the order and closed the link. "Wait for my signal." She told the guardsmen. "Once I order you to move you will have no chance to hesitate."

The guardsmen nodded and agreed. Emma could see a sheen on the skin of some of them. Whether it was sweat, or the black rain rain Emma wasn´t sure. Inside her armor, she was still dripping with sweet. The inner micro-fibers and the robes she wore underneath had become soaked. The guardsmen started to form up. Most of them raised ladders made out of cracked wood or rusted pipes. Those that couldn´t find a ladder used boxes, rocks or anything they could stand on.

"Hold." Emma held up a closed fist. She went through the time in her head. _Just a few more seconds._

A sound of tank treads spinning came from behind them. Following that, came the force of a sonic shockwave stronger than anything they had felt before. It knocked Emma forward. The sheer power of the sound was enough to crack the ceramite in her backpack. Red damage runes started flashing next to her visor. The machine spirit of her backpack had taken damage. That was what the rune kept telling her with its flashes.

Emma commanded everyone to climb, but she couldn´t her herself shout. She felt her throat grating, but the only thing she heard was the ting of a bell inside her skull. Up above the trench. _Running?_ Emma couldn´t feel her legs moving. The ground moved up and down as if she was walking. It was dark, murky. A shadow or a shape could be an enemy, a friend or a dead tree. Metal clanged. Her eyes sank to a close. The world swam. Heart pounded in pain. Air brushed softly across her lips.

"Emma?"

She knew that voice. _Hjalmar?_

"Are you alright?"

Lips hung open. Tongue was dry. Heaving for air, Emma lifted her eyelids. It was Hjalmar´s bushy face that greeted her. Blood had been washed into his beard. Dried but still red. His grey eyes wide with concern.

Something was pushed into her arm through the gaps in her armor. A needle. The muscles that were already heavy turned numb. The pain in her sides faded. Breathing became easier, but the bell remained. She put her hand on her hip, closed her fist and felt the sword in her palm. Boot pressed into the ground but slipped in the mud. Hjalmar lifted her up. The moment he let go, the world became swirling.

"Incoming!" A wolf shouted.

"Tank…." Emma whispered.

"Aye, it's a tank alright." Hjalmar agreed. "Keep down until you can move by yourself." He climbed out of the trench with his brothers. Shield humming and axe crackling.

Emma propped herself against the wall. Sword drawn and planted into the mud. Slumbering, the blade the dirt washed of the blade by the black rain.

* * *

"Behind me brothers!" The force field around his shield shimmered and wavered with sonic waves and burst of bullets. He felt the impact of each down to his shoulder. Their target was clear. Standing in front of them.

A tank with the purple hull to match it´s legion. Treads covered in mud and knife-like prods sticking out of it. But rather than a long, narrow muzzle made for firing shells, it had a maw that could swallow a marine whole. Filled by a grill, the machine boomed and vibrated as it pushed waves and waves of sound.

The scream of the thing was enough to drive a man to madness. The screech of the war-machine made Hjalmar flinch. Traitor marines chanted next to the tank. Twisted and brutal praises for their twisted patron god.

" _SCATTER, MY BROTHERS_!" Hjalmar entered into a sprint as his brothers dispersed. They spread outwards, their bolters hammering and chainswords whirring with the slam of their boots.

Running. His veins burned. His fangs dripped with thick slaver. This was the kind of fighting he knew. _A simple, strong enemy in front of me, my brothers at my side._ Hjalmar felt an urge to kill. It was powerful and rare.

Hjalmar leaped. He stared down into the tank´s maw and plunged his axe into it.

The grill shattered. The axe became stuck in the metal, but Hjalmar wrenched it free. The tank blasted through its maw. The old wolf took the full force of it with his chest. His breastplate cracked, and blood started running from his ears and nostrils.

The urge became stronger. Hjalmar hammered his shield down as he carved with his axe. He tossed chunks of metal aside like rotten pieces of meat. His brothers came at the flanks. Pinning the traitor marines to the side of the tank, his pack of ten brothers slaughtered the traitors gathered around the tank.

 _I can hear it howling._ The urge was becoming more powerful by the second. Hjalmar couldn´t remember the last time he had experienced something this strong. It was nearly overpowering.

A feral, ferocious snarl came from the side of the tank. A sound that shattered everything and brought both Hjalmar's hearts to a cold stop. The old wolf leaped of the side of the tank. He found one of his brothers, Gunwoll, feasting on the flesh of one of the fallen traitor marines. His eyes cloudy, the pupils shrunken into small dots. Hjalmar knew all to well what he was seeing.

"Brother!" Hjalmar slammed Gunwoll against the tank and pinned him in place as his brother squirmed to tear himself loose. Outraged, Hjalmar pulled his head back and slammed his forehead into Gunwolls nose.

The face that returned was bleeding torrents of blood. Its nose was broken and flattened, but the fog faded from the eyes and pupils grew. "Captain…?"

Hjalmar let go of his brother and looked after the rest. Those that had them, fired their bolters at the enemy. The others swung their chainswords around, hoping to make them come closer. His natural instincts told him to charge forward again. Instincts that had been savored and honed over centuries. But his mind told him differently.

Space Marines were meant to excel at every aspect of humanity. Whether it be warfare or craftsmanship. Anything a mortal could do; a Space Marine could do better. In the eyes of some, that meant being elevated to beyond their human form to become a son of one of the Emperor´s blessed creations meant that you were more important than those mortals unworthy of the same blessing. There was a time, that Hjalmar believed this. The power he wielded. The strength of his body. The wounds he could endure. Even among his brothers he had always been the biggest and strongest. No matter how many times they would try and wrestle him, the fight always became bloody, but Hjalmar was never the one to limp away from it. He felt powerful. He knew he was powerful. He knew he was better than all his brothers. He was always better than any mortal. Reality finally told him otherwise. It struck him like a spear of smoking ice piercing his first heart. Their sagged, broken bodies in his enormous hands. _My body may be beyond any mortal's, but both my spirit and mind are just as daft. Maybe worse._

"With me!" Hjalmar ran towards the trench. His brothers followed, though not without grunts of protest. They knew the tactic, it did not mean they liked it. Beams from lasguns darted past them. They marked their next prey.

Hjalmar waved his axe in a circle above his head. He turned leaned to his side. Turning without losing momentum, the wolves prepared to make another charge.

" _FOR RUSS AND THE ALLFATHER!_ "


	70. Chapter 67

The black rose chapter 67

Worlds once luscious with life made into barren plains covered in clouds of black ash was nothing new to Anna. She had read numerous different records about them. There was the tale of the ocean world Dumas, a planet once covered in a bright purple ocean. A world teaming with life. Until every drop of water evaporated by the Xenos that stripped world of every resource it had. Now only a barren desert remained. Or the death world Cobo, a planet that had once been green with forests so thick the ground never saw the sun. _Declared tainted by Chaos by authority the Inquisition and subjected to orbital bombardment. Now the only thing that grows out of that land are the raging volcanos, spewing out their fumes and covering the surface in eternal smog._ Much as Anna had studied those records, there was never an answer for the things she was curious about. She always wondered what lived there before, what kind of life made its home on those planets? And what kind of life choose to settle here?

"We´ll find it there." Sister Superior Johana said. "It will be in there."

"By the Emperor, I hope so."

"Do you doubt me?"

Anna looked to Johana. "No, I don´t doubt you, I just doubt the Inquisitor. As we all should at this point."

"Why?"

Anna was puzzled by the question. "Because he murdered our cardinal."

"Alfred tried to burn as all alive." Johana said with a sudden snap.

"Because we fought alongside the guardsmen, I know. I have heard plenty of speculation like it."

"And what do you believe, Standard Bearer?" Johana asked.

"That there may have been something more going on. Something that neither you or I know about."

"What could there have been?"

"I don´t know. I wish I did. Maybe we wouldn´t have gone here if we knew." Anna almost regretted going to this dead world. If there was nothing, they would have come here for nothing. If there was something, then there was something to guard.

"We would always have come here." Johana looked up at fortress with a longing gaze.

"Go back to your spot in the line." Anna said.

They walked slowly forward through the mud. Johana seemed to be more eager than the rest. Anna had to tell her several times to fall back in line and help the guardsmen drag the gear. It was slow and heavy work. Garbo was eager to voice his protests against even taking it with them, but he was always shunned. The other guardsmen seemed to understand better. The reason they dragged this gear along wasn´t in case something would happened, it was when it would happen. Even as they pushed the heavy case forward, they always had their lasguns at the ready. Some of them even refused to use both hands to drag the case, instead opting to hold their weapons in one hand and pull or push with the other.

Anna prodded the ground with the banner. Before taking another step, she always made sure that there was solid ground beneath the mud by sticking the end of the banner´s pole down until she felt the hard rock beneath. The guardsmen behind her made sure to follow in her footsteps, scared that they might plunge into the mud beneath them.

 _Should be thankful that they aren´t wearing their entire weight in armor._ Anna thought as she wrestled her foot loose. Her sisters struggled with the same issue. Each time they pulled one foot loose, the other had dug in so deep it almost took a full minute to get it loose.Though the muddy ditch they had to cover was no more than a few hundred meters, it took them hours to cross it. Walking in a straight line was impossible, as Anna had to constantly shift their path depending on how deep the banner sunk. If she couldn´t feel any bottom, she ordered them to turn. The case seemed eager to sink in. Often being covered in so much mud that they had stop entirely so that Johana and Aline could help the guardsmen get it out of the mud.

When they finally found solid ground by the root of the mountain, two of the guardsmen collapsed from exhaustion. Anna planted the banner into the ground and pulled the two of them up on the shore as the rest dragged the bolter-case.

"Permission to rest, sister?" Garbo asked.

Anna puffed air inside her helmet. Her cogitator´s monitoring systems showed raised heartbeats and breathing on Aline but not on Johana. The cogitator reported only a soft, but steady pulse along with a stable rhythm of breath.

"Granted." Anna said. "But only five minutes. Make sure you make the most of it."

Garbo performed a quick salute before pulling a bottle of liquor from a pocket in his jacket.

"That won´t make you less thirsty." Anna said.

"No, but it will help me forget that I am."

"There are better times for it."

"I´m not waiting for those."

Anna took her helmet and opened a bottle of warm, yet tasteless water. It was difficult to swallow but good once she managed to force it down.

Garbo looked up to the fortress. "How much longer do you reckon it will take?"

"Long. At least the rest of the day. If not some time into the night."

"What if we left the case?"

"We´re not."

"I know." Garbo admitted. "But what if we did?"

"It would be quicker. But the same can be said if we left our armor and weapons as well. And then we would be heading forward without anything between us and whatever will be trying to kill us."

"I´m not saying that we should leave all our weapons and armor-"

"No, you're just saying we should leave the heaviest one." Anna forced another chug of water down. "The one that bothers you the most."

"I´m just saying we might be up by the fortress quicker if we left it here." Garbo sat down next to Anna. "Get in and get out quickly. By the time whatever you think is coming for us knows the STC is missing we will be long gone."

Anna turned her head to the fortress. She took a sloppy chug and wiped her face with the back of her hand. "Do you know what the Warp-Spawns are, sergeant?"

"Daemons." Garbo said.

"Yes. Cunning, clever and hungry daemons. They feast on our souls. Like how a beast feasts on its kill. They come from the realm that mirrors our own, in a twisted fashion. They will tempt and lure those they can and devour those who do not embrace them. We are in the Eye of Terror; a wound in reality where that realm bleeds outwards like puss from a sickly wound. This is the realm where they manifest. This the realm where they hunt."

"What are you saying?"

Anna´s amber orange eyes settled on Garbo with vexation. "They are watching us we speak. They watched us when we traveled through the Warp. Their corruption tried to take hold. And those that failed to resist the temptations where purged." Anna rested her hand on the flamer that hung from her belt.

"Are they that dangerous?"

Anna nodded. "They are. They know we will not sway. They know what happens to those who do."

"You burn them alive."

Anna nodded again.

"You´re cruel, sister."

"If a wound is not treated decease will spread across to the body."

"Still cruel." Garbo drank from his bottle. "Why do they wait?"

"Because the more we fight, the sweeter our souls become to them. To them, the beautiful is macabre and the macabre is beautiful."

"They would love the hive I came from."

Anna glance down at her cogitator. "Not much time left, sergeant. I suggest you use the last minute to rest."

"Can do."


	71. Chapter 68

The black rose chapter 68

Limbs throbbed. Tendons stung. If the sedatives had worn of or if they were numbing a greater pain, Emma couldn´t tell. Her mouth was dry like ash. She tried producing saliva by sucking her tongue and was felt a taste of burnt cotton. There was noise. The booms of artillery hammering into armor. Screams of the dying. The howls of the wolves and the traitor marines. One was animalistic and savage. The other was joyous and agonized. One sound still managed to overpower them all. The little bell in her ear.

Her boot pressed into the ground. She felt the trench wall press against her back as her hells dug into the mud and pushed her up.

"Galatea." Emma voxed. "Status on the wolves?"

" _They are charging back and forth on between the first and second trench. They´re using hit and run tactics on incoming traitor marines._ "

Emma made her way to the trench to see for herself. The distance between trenches was short. No more than a few hundred meters at its longest. _So, this is what a pack of wolves on the hunt looks like._

Hjalmar and his brothers fought well. Surrounding their prey with chainswords, axes and bolters they made sure the Emperor´s Children had no means of escape. Though they showed no interest in it. Even when the last traitor stood alone, he ran forth to Hjalmar with open arms, only to have the old wolf ram his axe into the traitor´s side and cleave his helmet with a strike from his shield. But for every squad of traitor´s they butchered, two hurried past them.

"For Slaanesh´s perverse glories!" A traitor marine bellowed. He took Emma by the torso and flung her to the side of the trench.

She excepted pain but felt only a tingle. She tumbled the ground. The marine stood over her, licking his teeth with a pink, slithering tongue.

The hand pressed the sword. The muscles remembered the activation rune. The blade screamed as Emma stabbed the softer armor behind his kneecap.

A crackling, blue blade drenched in corrupted Astartes blood cut through the marine´s leg. Tears squeezed out of his eyes as he laughed. Twohanded, Emma cut through the leg. Blood sprayed from the wound. The marine timbered. He fell forward, over Emma. She raised the blade.

Crackling, the blade cut through his chest and sprouted from his back. Emma tried heaving him of her but only felt him sinking lower. The sword quickly pinned her down. The marine stared at her as blood started dripping from his mouth.

His hands dug into the ground. His entire body trembled as the blade scrapped against the inners of his body. His mouth gaped wide open as his eyes closed. The muscles in his neck strained to the point that they threatened to brake.

Emma grabbed his face. Her armored fingers pressed into his gaunt features. The muscles beneath his skin shifted and stretched. He seemed to smile but the twisted form of his face made all his expressions into the same hungry yearn. Emma pulled her hand back, fingers tearing his wax-like skin as her hand folded into a fist. She hammered into his head, each punch feeling softer than the last. Blood and shattered bones spilled down on Emma. Her visor was almost drowned in thick viscera. She felt her fist hitting, and she kept punching. She punched. And punched. And punched. Fingers started trembling, and the fist started uncoiling.

"Slaanesh bless you…" The words bleed from his shattered jaw and broken lips. One eye was gone. Crushed into a pulp. A deep, blood-covered cave remained.

Emma locked her hand around his neck and squeezed as the wiggled her sword, the blade breaking through his armor as blood spilled down on her belly.

The last air in his lungs sipped out with a sigh as he sank down on top of Emma.

Pinned to the ground, Emma just barely managed to drag her sword to the side, avoiding the pommel crushing her chest. She tried lifting him, but the body rested heavy on her. She could hear more. They declared their patron god´s glories, while mocking the Emperor own sacred Light.

 _The bell… I can hear the bell. In my left ear._ It was a constant, never ending ting. But she suffered through it.

The body suddenly flew of Emma. A marine stood over her. She didn´t recognize him, but the color of his armor told her all she needed to know. _Sky-grey._ Emma lifted her hand, and the wolf lifted her up with quick pull. To Emma´s surprise, she could stand.

The wolf leaped out of the trench and offered Emma´s hand as bolter rounds clipped against his armor. Once up she saw the rest of his pack. Hjalmar stood a head above them, absorbing all he could with his storm-shield.

"We need to fall back!" Hjalmar roared. "Back, inside the city walls. RETREAT!" He released his shield and throw Emma over his shoulder.

She wanted to run alongside them. She wanted to raise her sword and lead a charge against the traitor marines from the Emperor´s Children.

 _I can´t charge. I´ve have lost my sword._


	72. Chapter 69

The black rose chapter 69

The rain returned. It washed away the mud but made the rocky ground slippery. Anna used the banner pole to get a firm grip on the ground while the others struggled to keep on their feet. The wind tossed strong gusts at them, as if it was hoping to throw them back down to the valley behind them.

"I can see it." Johana said. "I can see it."

"Its close." Anna corrected. "Very close."

"Let´s get rid of that distance." Garbo grunted as he heaved the box over a small hill. They weren´t going up a natural path. There was no trace of a track or any signs of a road. The bone like construct that made the fortress may have devoured any trail leading up to it. The ground that they traveled was smoothened by eons of winds and water. The beds of rivers dead and starving were visibly carved into the rock. It was a curse for them. Taking a single step was enough to lose their grip on the ground. The rock was then eager to give them a short, yet hard kiss. The guardsmen took the worst of it. Anna, Johana and Aline had heavier armor but that also took most of the impacts. The guardsmen, in their comparably soft flack armor suffered more for their mistakes.

The wind thrusted again. Garbo slipped. The side of his face came met the ground. It produced a wet crack.

"Sergeant?" Anna tried assuring his status once he didn´t move.

The rain that was dripping down from his face turned into dark crimson. He put his hand over his face and heaved in pained breaths.

Anna planted the banner in the rock and made her way to him. "Remove your hand." She said.

It wasn´t entirely voluntary as Anna had to grab his wrist to get him to even move it. "I can still move." He said through a torn lip and visibly shattered teeth.

"Hold still." Anna took a charge of pain-diminisher from her belt pouch and injected it into his arm. "This will calm the pain, but it will not heal the wound."

"I can take care of that myself."

"No time." Anna lifted him up. "We can´t pause now. If you can´t keep up, we leave you." She walked back to her banner and continued to march upwards.

Traces of white strings started displaying themselves across the rocks. Crawling like the wines of a bush, they spread across the rock and pulsed with a soft light. Anna traced her hand across the wines and felt them sink, just a little as her fingers traveled across them.

The further they climbed, the thicker and denser the collections of vines became. Soon they grew into branches. Coming across an edge, they came staring up the face of it. The fortress of white growing out of the black rock.

"How do we get in?" Aline asked.

"There." Johana took the lead as she pointed to a passage between the root-like branches of the wall.

The entrance was gaping wide. It curved like the gaping mouth of human skull, skin stretched and frozen into an eternal scream. Johana hurried forward.

"Stop." Anna commanded.

Johana slowed down her pace but didn't stop.

Anna hurried up past her and stopped in front of the entrance. The inside of the cave was a black abyss, but Anna could see a glimmering diamond inside it. Like a lone star in the night sky.

The Sister Superior tried to walk past her, but Anna held out her hand before Johana.

"Bring the rest of them." Anna said.

With a moment of pause in protest, Johana turned to help the guardsmen and Aline.

Anna stared into the entrance. The little diamond was gone. She shifted her cogitator sight through multiple light forms but the light coming from it was nowhere to be found. When her cogitator displayed the filter made for darkness, she could see the interior of the cave. Walls smooth and polished to the point that the most skilled sculptures would throw their tools away in jealousy when watching it. She touched the side of the entrance with her hand and felt it softly slide down, as if she had laid her hand on virgin ice. Scraping with the joints of her armored fingers left no marks.

The others arrived. Johana was in front, Aline watched the rear while the guardsmen dragged the bolter case forward.

"So," Garbo began once they sat the box down. "What happens now?"

"Set up the heavy bolter." Anna ordered. "I want that it armed and ready to fire."

"What way do you want it facing?"

"Outwards." Anna said.

"At your command." Garbo and the other guardsmen went to work on assembling the bolter on with its shield and supports. It didn´t take them long, but it was not short enough to be fast. One of the guardsmen fumbled while trying to insert the ammo belt, Garbo yelled at one of them for putting the wrong screws into the wrong sockets.

Anna planted the banner next to the bolter. The Hawk stared into the cave. "Me and my sisters will enter the cave. You will hold your position here until we return. Defend it with your lives."

The sergeant looked like he was about to make some sarcastic remark but kept silent. "It will be done, Standard Bearer."

"Sister Superior, Aline." Anna took her flamer in her hands. "I want you both at my flanks. Neither of you move faster than I do, understand?"

"Yes, Standard Bearer." Aline said.

Johana nodded.

The entrance gave form to something that did not have the shape and form of anything like the great halls that Anna recalled from the cathedrals on her homeworld. The roof was neither rigid nor formed. It seemed that, like the fortress itself, the path they where heading down had grown out of the bone-white material that grew out of the mountainside. The ground made soft crunching noises as they got deeper into gate,

The light started to fade. The cogitator warned about the reduction. Anna held her fist out for everyone to stop. She took a torch from her belt, loaded it with a charge of gunpowder and ignited the fumes that poured out of it. The warm, orange light spilled out over the ground.

"Emperor protect us…" Aline whispered softly.

The ground was covered in a carpet of corpses. Twisted and mangled things. They bore the shape and size of humans but when Anna leaned in close she spotted the difference. "Xenos." She prodded the head to make sure of its state. The head bopped slightly before returning to its original place.

"Eldar." Johana said.

Every single one of them where dead. They ley spread naked across the ground, their faces frozen in final moments that reflected either agony or ecstasy.

"Ready our weapons." Anna raised her bolter. "The Xenos may still be here."

"Or what killed them." Johana said.

They proceeded in silence. The bones of the fragile Eldar bodies cracked and snapped whenever one of the sisters put her boot down on them. The deeper they went, the more grotesque the bodies became. Arms crafted onto the walls. Faces stripped of their skin only to have it crudely sown back on. Ribcages opened with every organ within exposed but no sign of any blood coming from them. Bodies stitched together between the legs with stomachs so swollen that they looked ready to burst open at the slightest disturbance. Even if their genitals where not visible, Anna could tell by the shape of their chest that both where females.

 _Xenos degenerate filth._ Anna thought as the torchlight faded from them.

She started to feel warmer. Anna noticed herself taking larger breaths and feeling trickles of sweat gathering around her hair. A quick look at the dials confirmed her suspicion. With every step, Anna saw the temp-read increasing just slightly.

"Standard Bearer." Johana said.

Anna turned to the Sister Superior.

"Look." She pointed to the roof.

Carved out of snow-white bone and filled with the blood and skin of the Eldars, was the symbol of the most twisted and perverse of the Chaos Gods. A circle pointed marked by a sharp point that skewered a half crescent moon filled with the same dark blood as the circle.

The name came out of Johana like gentle whisper. "Slaanesh."

Aline stepped forward. "What do we do?"

Her blood iced in her veins. Anna looked at the hand holding the torch and found that it was trembling. "We keep moving. Our faith is our shield."

"Our fury is our sword." Johana said, with a hint of laughter in her voice.

The hall narrowed, forcing the sisters to walk in a line. Anna lead them. Johana was at the center, watching over Anna´s shoulder. Aline guarded the back.

The hall entered into a spiraling stair case. Anna gazed down and found the doors of chambers torn open by vicious strikes. At first, she wondered what they could have housed, but then worried herself with what they could be housing.

"It looks endless." Aline commented when she stared down the spiral.

"Let´s see if it is." Anna took the lead once again with her torch. The staircase itself was wide enough to have all three of them walking shoulder to shoulder, but Anna gestured for her sisters to assume to same positions as before.

They stopped by every chamber and looked inside. What they found in there made Anna stomach churn. She couldn´t tell any longer weather these where the remains of Eldar or humans, and the uncertainty took a firm hold of her as her mind assumed the worst.

With each chamber, the things that they saw became worse. And with each step, Anna could feel a weight adding to every step. _Where is that STC? Is it even here?_

A sound came from the chamber in front of them. A laugher, but not of a single voice. They approached, and Anna felt a pressure inside her head, as if something squeezed her skull. It got harder with every step, until she winced from just lifting her foot.

"Standard Bearer?" Johana took her arm. "Are you hurt?"

Anna pressed down on her temples. "My head."

"Do not worry," Johana said. "This will not last long."


	73. Chapter 70

The black rose chapter 70

She fumbled with the magazine three times before it found its socket. Aiming was beyond meaningless at this point. Emma lifted the weapon above the trench and fired blindly against the incoming traitor marines.

Hjalmar struggled in the trench. A traitor marine had made his way down and butchered his way through the Guardsmen until he reached them. Grinning madly, the marine released a blade made of purple silver and swung for Hjalmar. The old wolf tried raising his shield to catch the blow but was to slow. The point of the sword found the fold in his shield-arm and cut clean through the elbow. Hjalmar grunted as the traitor marine took a firm hold of his axe hand. Hjalmar headbutted him. The impact with cracked the bark of a bolter. The marine staggered and Hjalmar took his head of with his axe.

"We can´t hold them of much longer!" The wolf Lukar bellowed.

Hjalmar turned to Emma. "Where is the nearest gate?"

"The southwestern one." Emma answered. "Three hundred meters away from here."

"Contact Galatea or whoever is in charge of them, just make sure it gets opened."

Emma nodded in agreement. "Galatea, we can´t hold them of any longer. We need to fall back. Prepare to have southwestern gate opened."

" _The gate will be opened in three minutes._ " A voice answered that wasn´t Galatea. " _Don´t wait, it will only remain open for one minute._ "

"Got it." Emma slid down into the trench, biting through the pain in her sides. "Gather everyone you can. The gate will only be open for one minute."

" _BROTHERS!_ " Hjalmar bellowed with a thunderous roar. " _FALL BACK TO THE SOUTHWESTERN GATE!_ "

 _Great, now the heretics know exactly where we are gathering._ Emma opened the main vox-channel that her sisters and the guardsmen used. "All units; abandon your posts and fall back to the southwestern gate immediately. I repeat; this the Palatine of the Talons ordering all units to abandon your posts and fall back to the southwestern gate. Don´t wait, the gate will only remain open for one minute."

" _FALL BACK!_ " Hjalmar took Emma in his arms again. It was painful to admit but standing up had become a struggle in and of itself. Running was a gamble to see if her body could be counted on not tilting forward until she timbered.

It seemed to awake something. To be held like she was now. A fading and, to her mind, foreign memory. Emma closed her eyes and felt her body sink over Hjalmar´s shoulder. Sounds faded, but the invisible little bell kept ringing. _I am not dead._ Emma thought. _As long as I hear the bell, I am alive._

Forcing her eyes open, Emma saw the gate in front of her. That meant that Hjalmar had turned and was facing the enemy. "Hjalmar," The words came painfully from her throat like rough whispers, but the old wolf would hear them anyway. "Set me down."

With a growl, Hjalmar put Emma to her feet. She checked her boltgun and battled her own legs to keep her still as she tried to aim for any incoming marines.

The Space Wolves were the first to arrive. Followed shortly by Emma´s sisters. Hjalmar ordered them to form a line around the gate and help any of their allies that they saw. In the circle of sky-grey wolfs and sisters in black, they gathered around the gate in formation that was as impenetrable as it was vulnerable. The blending of bolter barks, breaths of flamers and booms of sonic weapons made for a riot of noise. Artillery hammered down for all it was worth on the incoming Emperor´s Children but to little effect. The few tanks around the Capital´s walls that weren´t abandoned by their crews were quickly blasted and crushed by the enemy´s own war-machines. If the crew where unfortunate enough to survive that, they where made to suffer through their last moments alive as toys for the Emperor´s Children´s cruel games. They injected them with venoms that made them pull and claw at their own skin. Others where made to take the full force of the sonic weapons straight to their chest. Their inner frames shattering without breaking their skin. Others where simply feed upon as the traitor marines used them for their rituals. Some bodies burst open in screams that stabbed through the back of Emma´s mind. Flames coated in hideous variety of shades purple writhed from the wounds.

It was a curse to hear and watch but wanted blessing as well. Occupying themselves with easy pickings, the traitor marines that attacked the wolves and the sisters where fewer in numbers than before. But they where still enough to easily overwhelm them. It was only by Hjalmar enforcing that no one be allowed to move from their position that the line held as waves upon waves of traitor marines charged them. Hjalmar´s brothers where always eager to charge forth, but as Emma´s sisters unleashed their tanks of promethium. Charging forth became impossible as the ground became coated in the burning liquid. Not that the Emperor´s Children seemed to show the same concern, even as the flames melted their amour, the traitor marines keep running forth. It slowed their advance down as the wolves made easy pickings of the already half-dead marines when they came within distance. But that did not last long. Once a traitor had fallen, his body became a stepping stone for his brothers.

The gate opened with a titanic creek as the doors parted and fresh soldiers ran out to cover their retreat.

" _FALL BACK!_ " Hjalmar waved for everyone to withdraw.

Emma´s sisters released a final torrent of promethium until they reached their Palatine. Emma had managed to stay upright but was forced to lean on sister Alova for her to run.

" _Hurry!_ " Emma shouted when she saw several of her sisters backing up behind her. " _Fall back into the city walls!_ " But her sisters moved no faster than they had before. They stayed around her and fanned their streams of promethium. _They´re trying to keep me alive._

The flames created a wall of fire. Great, roaring waves of furious wildfires that drained the ground of color. Only a dried, black wasteland was all that remained. The booms of the sonic weapons would tear great gouaches through the wall, showing the flashes of the traitor marines on the others side. They roared and sang for their god as the flames regenerated the wounds they caused in a matter of seconds. A choir of laughter came from the other side of the flames. These weren´t the maniacal laughter of one of the traitor marines. Emma didn´t need Hjalmar´s ears to tell that. These were ethereal, eldritch laughter's, belonging to beings whose voices echoed by the screams of a thousand agonizing deaths.

" _ **For the Prince!**_ " Shrieked the laughing voice.

A creature leaped through the flames. Even as the promethium peeled away its crackled the its purple-grey skin, it didn´t slow. Running on clawed the feet and standing as tall as any human, it leaped for Emma´s sisters with crab like claws. It moved quicker than they could perceive. Snapped between the creature´s claws, a sister was cleaved in half. Galling proudly over its kill, the daemon stretched out its tongue to catch droplets of the blood that it spread through the air by its dance.

Emma drew her bolter and unleashed the weapons rage into the daemon. The bolter rounds punched through carapace and blasted away flesh. When the weapon started clicking, only a shattered skeleton with chunks of meat was all that remained standing. The daemon licked blood of its maw and dissolved into the air in blast that rippled across Emma´s skin. Her legs felt soft again.

"Palatine!" Alova took Emma again.

"Unleash the promethium!" Emma ordered her sisters as they retreated. Her orders came to late.

A dozen more daemons leaped through the flames, all siblings of the one Emma had purged from existence. They gave her sisters no chance to react. They dashed forward with a speed that only left blurs and sliced the sisters in brutal and surgical strikes. Their armor gave no resistance. Limbs and heads rolled. A claw sprouted through the backpack of one of the sisters and the daemon lifted her up with spindly arms that showed no sings of strain.

" _ **Fell the pleasure of the Prince!**_ " The daemon screamed before it gutted her like a life fish. The claws stabbing so quickly that she never sank in the air, even as her innards spilled from her wound.

Emma felt her fingers twitching. She wanted to draw her sword and avenge her sisters. Avenge everyone who died by traitors' hands. Working more out of instinct than thought, her hand grasped for a sword that wasn´t there. She looked to Alova and found a sword. She reached out for it.

"My Palatine!" She took Emma´s wrist as she tried to unleash the blade. "We need to fall back!"

Her hand opened, and her legs picked up their sprint. She could hear them behind her. They feasted on the pain they caused.

" _ **SISTER!**_ " The word came more as shriek than a scream, but Emma could still hear it. " _ **Behold our artistry! Turn and see our majesty and anticipate your own ascension by the way of our craft!**_ "

They ran at a limb. The gate started closing. A fire ran through Emma´s blood. It whipped her muscles into a frenzy that killed the pain. Her boots started hammering into the ground. She couldn´t feel Alova supporting her. She couldn´t feel the armor against her skin. She couldn´t feel the sweat rolling down her forehead. There was only the bell. The gate grew larger. It moved.

" _RUN!_ " Was the word coming from her lips? Or was it someone else? She couldn´t feel her mouth moving. _I can´t feel anything moving._ Was it Hjalmar who shouted? _No, the voice belonged to a woman._

She passed through the gate. The legs gave in and Emma tumbled to the ground. The sound of her armor hitting the ground was muted and soft. She stopped on her stomach. Head swirling, Emma looked up and saw the gate closing. Alova was on the other side. The daemons proclaimed the praises for her.

" _ **You shall be an all to short lived joy for our senses!**_ "

Emma got to her feet. The gate sealed when she was standing upright.

"Emma!" Hjalmar voice boomed. He ran up to her and aided her balance with his massive hands.

"We are not dying today…." Emma promised herself with a whisper.

"You´re bloody right, we´re not." Hjalmar said with a strong satisfaction in his voice.

 _I am not dying today._

"Well standing around isn´t going to help anyone." Hjalmar gave her slight shake.

"To the barracks." Emma said. "We need to reinforce the wall all around the city."

"I´ll head about with my brothers." Hjalmar lifted her up. "You´re going to someone who knows medicine."

Emma was about to protest, but she couldn´t even raise her hand to yank Hjalmar´s beard. He took her to the nearest medical unit. Emma managed to convince him to set her down, so he could lead his brothers. She stumbled into the tent.

The sweat had darkened the Hospitalers white robes. Medi-servitors tracked from one patient to the other. The ones who died where quickly transported away from the gurneys and blessed by a priest. It was the priest that noticed her first. He stared at Emma with kindly, brown eyes as Emma flung her helmet of and leaned on a rod not to fall.

"Hospitaler!" The priest called as her rushed up to aid Emma. "The Palatine of the Talons has been injured."

As the Hospitaler saw Emma, she whipped the moisture from her forehead with the cloth of her veil. "Set her down on that gurney. Inject a charge of pain-diminishers."

"Very well." He turned to Emma. "Will you come with me, Palatine?"

Emma answered by heading over the gurney and letting herself fall down on it. As the priest was fumbling with finding the right injectors, Emma pulled of the armor covering her hand and arm. Once the full armor was off, Emma´s eyes widened at sight of her arm. It was completely drained of color. Black veins pulsed beneath her skin. Touching her arm, the skin prickled like as if a thousand insects marched underneath it.

The priest stared at her arm in absolute terror. His face was almost as pale as Emma´s arm. "By the Emperor…" He gasped.

"Venom…"

The Hospitaler saw the Palatine´s arm and ran over. "Give me your arm."

It more fell into the Hospitalers hands rather than Emma extending it to her. She felt something sharp enter her skin. Tilting her head down, Emma saw the Hospitaler drawing a sample of blood with one needle while injecting something with one of the instruments on her fingers.

Her body gained a sudden weight. Even her fingers would barely move when she told them to. The Hospitaler hurried of with the blood she had drawn.

"Sleep, Palatine of the Talons." The priest said. "Sleep and awake to victory." He promised.

Her eyes sank softly downwards. It seemed so simple. So easy. Her body had begged for rest. Now it was fighting for it, and Emma was losing. _I´ll surrender… for now._ The noises started fading. Every sense was slowly dulled until all she could fell was a warm, gently dark enwrapping her. It cradled her softly until all she could hear was the sound of the bell faintly fading.

 _No!_ She tried rising from the gurney. Failing that, she tried opening her eyes or just produce a simple noise. No one of it made any difference. The bell died with everything else.

* * *

"With me, my brothers!" Hjalmar lead his first pack through the streets. They leaped across make shift barricades and heard the guardsmen gasp in amazement at their ability. While Tor and Gunwoll found amusement in their reactions, Hjalmar dreaded what will come should the traitors breach the walls with their summoned warp-spawns. _If they pose this little challenge for us, how is it every going to be anything for more for the Emperor´s Children other than a slight pause in their rampage?_

He had to ignore those thoughts. There was another, far more urgent target; The Eastern gate.

It was already broken by the time they got there. Bent and broken by blasts of sound. A line of three Leman Russ Battle Tanks filled the gateway, blasting out shells and pouring out ammo until their pipes glowed and the shells gleamed on the black pavement.

"Is there a bloody sergeant here?" Hjalmar asked the squad of guardsmen at the tanks rear serving ammo.

"Sergeant Val. Reporting holy Astartes."

"How many of the traitorous bastards you think are out there?"

The tanks boomed with another salvo. "Sir, Can´t say, Sir. They just keep coming, along with those… devils."

 _Daemonettes of Slaanesh._ Hjalmar growled at the back of his throat. "Do you have any squads still out there?"

"Sir, yes, Sir. But they are forbidden from retreating."

"On who´s bloody command?"

The guardsman flinched. "Sir, high command, Sir."

"Well then tell high command that those men will become sacrifices in damned rituals that´ll bring more and stronger _daemons_!" Hjalmar´s nostrils flared.

Nodded his trembling head, the sergeant made a quick salute and hurried for the nearest vox-caster.

Hjalmar waved his axe. "With me brothers. Let´s save these guardsmen from becoming fodder for some damned, deprived god!"

" _FOR RUSS AND THE ALLFATHER!_ "

They ran past the tanks and were quickly back on the battlefield. A swarm of the maidens of the Slaanesh danced as they sliced the guardsmen's armor to ribbons and peeled away their skin with tortuous artistry.

Hjalmar and his pack feel on the daemon with a savage fury. They were so caught up in their feast that they failed to see the wolves coming. A fact that Hjalmar took full advantage of. He split the skull of the first daemonette that came with reach by a strike of his shield. The next was split from shoulder to hip with a single strike. In seconds, the daemons feast had turned into a massacre as the wolves banished them back to the hellish realm of their master.

The guardsmen that where left alive keept onto life through sheer stubbornness. Hjalmar admired them in that but knew there was no chance for them. Perhaps to keep the guardsmen from fleeing, or by some gruesome humor, the daemonettes had cut of legs and arms, but made sure to seal the wounds to keep them within life. Turning them into broken sacks of meat only capable of screaming and begging. Hjalmar looked to the guardsmen. He turned to his brothers and gave the order. Each one was given a swift death by the blast of bolter.

"More of them are coming." His snarls nearly drowned the words. "Let them suffer our _wrath_!"

His brothers howled and gave into the hunt.

* * *

Her belly was large and warm. It was so large she could only sit on her knees and gently rub it. She felt the life within her. She felt it kicking, she felt it moving. She felt its little heart beating inside her belly. It was warm. Like a little pulsing flame inside of her.

 _The bell is silent._ A pained sighed blew across Emma´s lips. _I am dreaming. Only dreaming._

"Then it is a good dream." Arms wrapped around Emma´s neck. Her sister pulled her in close, until she felt her chest on pressing softly against Emma´s back.

Emma looked to her side, and there she was. Hair raven black, eyes chestnut brown, scar splitting across her cheek. "Johana…"

"My love." Her lips pressed against Emma.

 _Would you forsake your oath again?_

Johana pulled back, her eyes shut. "I have forsaken nothing. My oath is you. My honor is my love. My love is my dream."

Emma took Johana´s hand and kissed it. "My dream is here." She placed Johana´s hand on her belly.

"You will see him again." Johana said. "I promise, I will make it."

She leaned against Johana and reached behind her sister´s head. Her fingers traveled through the black hair. "Will it be enough? Will he notice me from the hundreds of thousands that give their life for Him? Many who carry purer oaths than me."

"You showed me your gravest scar and trusted me with it." Johana kissed her again. "A scar that left a mark that has never faded. There are hundreds of millions who fight for their lives. You fight for the life of your son. Only cruel gods would not see this and take notice."

Emma nodded. "But how long must I keep on fighting? How much longer will it last? When will it be over?"

"When the feral fall. When the night sky becomes lit by the light of the hidden sun. When the never-born feast. When the risen burn."

"How do you know this?" Emma asked.

"The Eye of Terror shows horrors as it shows wonders."

"You speak in riddles."

"I speak with the voice of the Emperor." Johana said. "The Emperor cares not for riddles. Weather it be confusing or comforting, He cares only for the truth."

"This is what that the Emperor claims? That it will end when the feral fall, the night sky becomes lit by the light of a hidden sun, the never-born feast and the risen burn?"

Johana pulled her arms back. "Emma, if you have lost your faith, if you no longer believe that my words no longer carry truth, then cast me aside and forsake me to the void. For will have no reason to fight if you give up."

Emma´s hands sank. "My faith is constantly tested. It is constantly being pushed to break. But it never has. It never will."

"Then head my words and come for me."


	74. Chapter 71

The black rose chapter 71

" _Captain_ ," Tor voxed. " _The Emperor´s Children just summoned something_."

Hjalmar finished the traitor he was fighting by cracking his head open with his boot. He was flanked by Gunwoll who slew a daemonette by punching his chainsword through the daemon´s mouth. It troubled Hjalmar to admit, but he was tired. It would seem that none could escape the ever-grinding tooth of time. "What are you seeing?"

" _A daemon three times the size of us with four… arms and horns on its ugly head_." The vox-network was slow and short ranged, but Tor´s revulsion came clearly through. " _It hurts to look at bloody thing_."

"Bloody…" Hjalmar peeled away his lips and bared his fangs.

"Orders, Captain?" Gunwoll asked.

"We need to send that freak back to the deprived hell it came from." He turned to Gunwoll. "Send for the devastator pack. Make sure they bring all the heavy firepower they can carry. We´ll keep the daemons busy."

"By the wolf." Gunwoll beat his fist to his chest before heading back to the Capital.

Hjalmar lead what remained of his pack to the north. He had given Tor orders to head there and report the status of the battle lines. The report he gave told Hjalmar all he needed to hear. His hearts pounded so hard they hurt. His armor discharged chem-stims to ease them, but they where just a splash of near frozen water trying to quench a raging inferno. The veins in his muscles relaxed and expanded, allowing the blood to run through much quicker.

The daemons seemed know of their approach. The swarms of daemonettes that had already bleed into reality along with the ones escaping from the rift that released the greater daemon of Slaanesh sensed Hjalmar and his pack like he would sense prey. They circled them while dancing and singing.

" _ **Wolves of Fenris.**_ " Spoke the Herald that acted as the warp-spawns leader. " _ **You seem unhappy. Will you allow us to put a smile on your face? Or at least carve on when you start screaming?**_ "

"They have us surrounded." Hjalmar admitted.

"They´ll regret that." Tor said.

The wolves charged and the daemonettes leaped. Alone, these lesser daemons of Slaanesh where little for any chapter of the Adeptus Astartes. For a chapter that specialized in close combat warfare, their frail constructs their master made for little resistance when meet with the strength and force of a Space Wolf. That was not the daemons strength, and they knew it.

They came in ceaseless discharge. Each one hungry for the wolves to scream. A few them managed to taste Hjalmar´s blood. In spite of his speed and strength, their numbers where to many. For every attack he saw and blocked, a two would come for his sides. They cheered each time they managed to get a cut, but Hjalmar never gave them the satisfaction of the scream they desperately hungered for.

" _ **Ah, Wolf of Fenris.**_ " The Herald of the swarm spoke as she moved her claws in a deceptively slow and seductive manner. " _ **Won´t you partake in my dance?**_ " The voice was mix of a million tortured screams trapped in a constant battle for dominance over the daemon´s throat.

"Come closer, Herald and I´ll let you taste my axe."

The daemon laughed mockingly with the voice of a decrepitated male. Talon shaped fingers twirled with a necklace of crimson jewels with white streaks swirling at the center of the ruby, like cream being mixed in blood. " _ **That axe of yours will grow dull before it can strike me.**_ "

"No Wolf of Fenris should die with his weapon still sharp."

The Herald laughed again. This time with the voice of a young, lustful female. Pirouetting and twirling his claws in signs of command. Ten courtesans of the Prince of Pleasure came for the old wolf, each of them swinging their paired claws. Hjalmar raised his shield and swung his axe. He blocked the strikes of two and cut the arms of one more. The rest found their way through his defenses. Their claws stabbed through his armor, creating dozens of shallow cuts. Every muscle in Hjalmar´s body burned. His blood bubbled through his veins, rushing to stop the bleed. He flashed his fangs.

Standing behind a line of her shielding maidens, the Herald stared at Hjalmar with eyes that lacked pupils but still displayed a thousand shades of satisfaction.

"How brave you are, _daemon_ ," Hjalmar swopped his axe out in arch in front of him and crushed the spines of the daemons before grabbing the one left alive with his shield hand. "WHEN YOU ARE HIDING BEHIND A LINE OF YOUR HANDMAIDENS!" He tore daemonette´s head of with a single hard yank.

Wrinkles of anger started showing in the Herald´s face. Eyes that resembled tears narrowed and a row of needle-like teeth showed. Swopping aside the line guarding him by tearing through their bodies with her claws, the Herald stepped forth.

Hjalmar didn´t wait for the daemon to make his move. He raised his axe and aimed for the daemons head.

A smirk appeared on the Herald´s rose red lips.

The axe crashed into the dirt.

" _ **Behold,**_ " The Herald announced by raising his claws into air. " _ **The Dance of the Tired, Groaning Wolf.**_ " A claw cut through Hjalmar´s armor, shattering the ceramite like it was glass. The claw ripped into his flesh and punched through his fused ribcage. The Herald laughed in triumph.

The laugh was swiftly silenced. Hjalmar swung his shield to the side, smacking the Herald into the dirt. Shattered, white needles flew through the air. Hjalmar clenched hard breaths through his teeth.

Licking the blood of his claw, the Herald moaned at the sweet taste of it. " _ **I shall enjoy feasting on the blood of your true heart, creation of the Anathema.**_ "

"You´ll have to tear it from my chest, warp-spawn."

Giggling now, with the voice of a young girl, the daemon performed an acrobatic leap and landed before the old wolf. " _ **Let me hear more of your song. Summon more of your strength and release the tunes of your crude tongue.**_ "

Slaver dripped from Hjalmar´s quivering lips. He pulled his axe back to swing it.

Laughing, the Herald leaped out of the way. This made the old wolf smile.

In a blur, coming from Hjalmar´s side, his shield rammed into the side of the daemon´s body. It came with the momentum of the old wolf´s upper body. Bones cracked, skin broke and muscles tore from their tethers. But the Herald did not fall. Using the force of the strike, the daemon made use of its acrobatics to spin around and stay gracefully on its feet. Now its movements where those of a broken performer. The fluidity and grace that the Herald had so mockingly displayed before were gone.

Hjalmar chuckled grimly at the sight of it. He pulled his axe back to banish the daemon back to the realm it came from.

The Herald twirled, the movement wasn´t enough to put it out of range of the old wolf, it only displayed its back to Hjalmar. A face returned. A woman´s face. Scarred, harsh but fierce and loyal beyond question.

" _Hjalmar,_ " It said with her voice. " _You worthless inquisitorial dog._ "

The shadow of doubt flashed across Hjalmar´s face. The Herald sprung up to take advantage of it. It was meet with an axe to the thigh.

"It will take more than cheap tricks to blind me, _daemon_!" Mag-locking his axe to his thigh, Hjalmar took the Herald´s arms. "Now," He lifted the Herald of the ground. "HEAR ME _ROAR_!" Hjalmar bellowed from the depths of his lungs. It tore savagely through his throat and burned with a rage inside his chest. Daemonettes running to their leader´s aid, backed off in terror. Still squirming in his arms, Hjalmar pulled. He pulled, and he felt the bones leaving their sockets. He pulled, and saw skin breaking at the Herald´s shoulder. A scream came from the daemon. A scream filled as with suffering as it was drenched in immeasurable delight. He gave it a final hard, yank. The Herald split apart from shoulder to stomach.

The swarm seemed to hesitate at the sight of what they saw. It gave Hjalmar and his brothers a welcome respite.

"Cowardly things." Tor said.

The ground gave a tremble. Hjalmar looked past the swarm and saw what they where doing. They weren't holding back. The daemons where anticipating.

Towering over its siblings, the Greater Daemon of Slaanesh stepped forth on spindly, agile legs that carried the body forward like a dancer performing before a theater´s audience. Seeing what it was facing, the daemon laughed the same ethereal laugh as the Herald.

Hjalmar glanced over his shoulder. The rear line was thin. No more than a few daemons watching it. "TOR! LUKAR! Break through the rear line!"

His brothers obeyed his commands, descending on the daemons with their chainswords.

"UNGAR! TYROL! To my side!" Hjalmar pounded his shield with his axe. The bang of the crackling axe against the humming shield caused the air before the old wolf to shimmer and tremble. The daemonettes close enough the feel the sound vibrating through the air moaned. Just as Hjalmar had hoped. "STRIKE!"

Growling chainswords bit into the daemons´ flesh. Boilingly warm blood spread from the mechanically fueled teeth splattered over the Space Wolves´ grey armor. Drops of it managed to find its way to Hjalmar´s face. The daemons laughed. Hjalmar knew exactly why. Their towering kin marched through their ranks without any obstacle. Though the body was deprived of any visible armor, the daemon showed no regard for the stray shots of lasguns that managed scorch its pale, pink skin. Walking with the mannerism as its kin though its rhythm and dance something entirely its own, the Keeper of Secrets traced its talon shaped fingers across the barbed sword it held in one of its four, lean limbs. Once the fingers had reached the tip of the blade, the daemon abandoned all its pretenses and charged.

The movements where a blur for any mortal. A mere flash of a dazzling display to the human eye. But the eyes of the Vlka Fenryka the creature´s speed was a shimmer.

"BROTHERS GET DOWN!" Hjalmar pushed Ungar aside when he saw the blade coming for him. There was no chance for the old wolf to avoid the strike. He let himself fall to his knee and raised his shield at and angle to the sword. Barely had he raised the shield, did he feel the hand holding it came crash into his face. The impact sent Hjalmar to the ground with his cheek caved in and his fingers broken. Tyrol was no so lucky. He reacted to slowly to the attack and serrated blade landed in his stomach. Not cutting cleanly through, Tyrol was lifted of the ground and plucked from the blade by one of the enormous claws attached to the Keeper. Pincered between the claws, he released his bolter and blasted into the daemon´s arm.

The Keeper laughed in the same mocking manner as the other daemons. A slithering, thin tongue extended from the daemon´s toothed maw and wrapped itself around the Space Wolf´s head. Tyrol squirmed and struggled as the tongue snaked its way around the softer fibers in his armor but too little effect. The tongue pushed itself into the seal in his helm and ripped the whole thing of with a casual flick.

As the daemon was about to burrow into Tyrol´s head, a rocket rammed into its head. The blast burned the pink skin black and caused the daemon to flick its tongue back. Another rocket followed it, this one punched into the Keeper´s stomach and blasted away thick chunks of string-like meat from the inside. A torrent of bolter rounds joined it.

" _Hjalmar,_ " Gunwoll voxed.

"Couldn´t have come at a better time." Hjalmar climbed to his feet. "Now bring that hideous daemon down."

His answer came in the form of twin rockets leaping through the air and hammering into their target with mechanical precision. The Keeper barely had time to stagger before a spear of red-hot laser stabbed into the already wounded flesh.

Still alive, Tyrol struggled in the daemon´s grip. Prying even as the armor covering his fingers was cut and the claws cut him down to the bone. Then the daemon squeezed, and Tyrol was cut in two.

His hearts hammered with fury. Every muscle in his body wanted to charge the daemon and tear its limbs of. "FALL BACK TO THE GATE!" Hjalmar bellowed.

His brothers unleashed another set of missiles at the great daemon. With the accuracy of a sniper and the speed of light, Bjorn fired another charge of his lascannon clear into the daemon´s head. Searing out its remaining black eye and left the Keeper deranged and blinded. In frustration, the daemon twirled around, making itself a maelstrom of claws and serrated metal. The speed of it made it a blur to even the eyes of the Astartes.

It was exactly what Hjalmar and his brothers needed. He expected the armor to release more charges of the stims to his system, but the cogitator told all charges where expired. He heaved with blood gathering up in his throat.

They made it back to the gate only to find it assaulted by a swarm of both the daemons clawing at the tanks and the traitor marines blasting away with their sonic cannons.

"Bjorn," Hjalmar called his brother. "Blast those traitor´s bastards with the missiles. Then use the heavy bolter on the Warp Spawn. We´ll come at the rest of them."

"Aye." Bjorn´s squad fired their missiles at the traitor marines, sending them into a violent disarray. He took his lascannon and blasted one of them out of existence before the heavy bolter pounded away at the daemonettes.

 _Aaaooouuuuuu!_ Hjalmar howled with his brothers before they charged the traitor marines.

Though blasted into disarray, the Emperor´s Children marines where quick to recover. When Hjalmar and his brothers attacked, they were meet with a blast of noise. The half-healed wounds inside Hjalmar´s ears raptured. A pressure built behind his eyes. As if they where swelling and started to become crushed inside his skull. Streaks of warm crimson traveled down the old wolf´s face as he hit a traitor marine like a battering ram. The impact crushed the pipe of the weapon but the marine himself showed little sing of carrying. Rather he smacked Hjalmar across the face with the broken weapon.

Hjalmar responded by burying the edge of his axe into the armor that had long ago sealed with the traitor´s flesh. The skin-like metal cracked, and blood squirted as Hjalmar pulled his axe loose. The Emperor´s Children marine gasped at the pain. Hjalmar raised his axe and prepared to ram it into the traitor´s skull when his arm was caught in the claw-like fingers of the marine. Talons the length of a mortal´s arm wrapped around Hjalmar´s wrist and held his axe in place. The traitor´s face stretched. His jaw thinned, and his eyes narrowed while they became exponentially larger. His mouth became lined with teeth. Thinner than the daemons, they seemed to sprout from the flesh around the mouth itself. The traitor lashed forth with a mouth large enough to engulf Hjalmar´s face.

There was no chance for him to dodge the attack, so Hjalmar didn´t try. All he did was take a short step to the side and present his shoulder. The maw wrapped around it and chewed as the teeth clipped through the sky-grey ceramite. Hjalmar opened his own mouth and bit down the traitor´s exposed neck. His fangs could bite through steel and his stomach could digest iron, but when the corrupted blood ran across his tongue and spilled down his throat, it was struggle for Hjalmar not release his grip and gag. _There is nothing as foul or degenerate as the blood of a traitor._ The muscles in his neck strained as Hjalmar bit down. The taste reached a climax as more blood filled his mouth, the old wolf pulled his head back, tacking a thick chunk of flesh with him. Even as he heaved the meat out, the blood spraying from the wound dripped across Hjalmar´s face. The scent could almost match the taste.

With his senses blanketed by the unrelenting smells and tastes, it took Hjalmar a moment to realize that grip on his arm and loosened. Though he could see the wound slowly healing in front of him, Hjalmar struck his axe into the traitor´s head so hard he felt the impact down to the elbow. He pulled the axe free by kicking the body of with a raised boot. Freed, Hjalmar looked around and found his brothers struggling.

Locked in stalemates, his brothers struggled for an advantage against the Emperor´s Children. Tor was knocked to the ground and just barely managed to block his opponent's blade with his prosthetic arm before being kicked in the head.

Charging with his hearts hammering inside his ribcage, Hjalmar cursed the traitor´s primarch as he took the head of marine fighting Tor.

"With me brothers!" Hjalmar commanded them to fall back with the sway of his axe. They hesitated, like always, but obeyed, like always.

Confounded by their tactics, the Emperor´s Children readied their weapons again and produced more sonic blasts that whipped Hjalmar´s and his brothers´ backs as they retreated.

It was a short run to the line of tanks being assaulted by the daemonettes. Bjorn had thinned their numbers with a constant barrage of bolter fire. The assault did not last long as the daemons where pinned between the charging wolves and the unmoving tanks.

"Bjorn!" Hjalmar called his brother to him.

The tanks parted ways to open a path for the wolves to enter. Bjorn watched the rear, letting his bolter fire until the tanks closed the gap.

"Astartes." The sergeant made a quick salute to Hjalmar. He looked like he had aged years. His face was drained of color and sheened with sweat.

 _Wonder who had the worst of it._ Hjalmar whipped some of the blood of his face with his hand. "Every squad is lost. Those who aren´t dead have become sacrifices for the traitors´ rituals."

"Oh, Emperor." Hjalmar noticed a slight tremble in the sergeant's legs.

"Won´t be long before they assault us on all fronts."

"What do we do?"

 _We stand our bloody ground. We fight until they start to fear us. We defend the lines with our blood and lives._ Hjalmar wanted to say all of those things. But none of them past his lips. "We need to fall back and set up new defensive parameters."

"My lord," The sergeant started his objection. "We have been given specific orders by the First General not to let them past the gates."

 _Allfather bless those who command their troops from afar._ Hjalmar grunted. "Then gather everyone you can and make sure they reinforce this line."

"Yes, lord." The sergeant hurried for his vox.

"You didn´t tell him about the Keeper of Secrets." Ungar said over a private vox-channel.

"No, I didn´t." Hjalmar whispered.

"It won´t take long for it to regenerate." Ungar tested the trigger on his chainsword and found the weapon slowed by the meat chugging through the gears.

Hjalmar closed his eyes. "I can hear the spirits screaming. Louder than before. The energies wreathing through air are strong."

Tor pushed a fresh magazine into his bolter. "They´ll be more. Won´t there?"

"A few." Hjalmar said. "If we are lucky. But luck is never something you should trust."

"You can always trust your bolter." Tor said. "And the chainsword in your hand."

Hjalmar chuckled at his brother quoting his lectures back at him. "You´re also better of counting on misfortune above everything else."


	75. Chapter 72

The black rose chapter 72

 _Northern front gone. Southern front gone. Eastern front gone. Western front… barely holding together._

Galatea never enjoyed a siege. Sitting behind the front lines and waiting never sat right with her. It was not something that fit any doctrine Galatea, or any Sister of the Hawk had ever mastered. Regardless of how many bullets would hail down on her tank´s armor, she always felt at home steering the sacred war-machines. It was with this in her mind, that Galatea watched the data feed of every fallen front and the losses of troops. They kept stacking up higher and higher. Only one thing remained stagnant; the number of Emperor´s Children Heretical Astartes: unknown.

"General Garius," Galatea voxed. "We have lost all but the western front. I am going to take the Immolator along with a company of Rhinos carrying reinforcement from the Wings Company."

" _Affirmative Palatine._ " The General replied. " _Tank squadron´s will be dispatched to reinforce the inner walls and prevent the Traitors from breaching the first wall._ "

"There is another foe on the field, General." Galatea looked at the cam-feeds from the Northern front.

" _How bad?_ "

"Greater Daemons have been summoned."

" _Emperor protect us._ " The fear in Garius´ voice was clear to Galatea.

"Do not pray for his aid. Act in his name and you shall receive it." Galatea closed the channel. She donned her helmet and rushed over to the elevator that would carry her down to the tanks. At her side she was flanked by two sisters carrying blessed heavy bolters.

"They dare bring that kind of heresy to our city?" Sister Olva said with spite.

"It is not a matter of daring for them." Galatea said. "It is a matter of want."

"The Emperor´s Children…" Sister Tanya muttered the name. "How can a heretical traitor Legion carry that name?"

"Because they were once loyal and noble. Seekers of perfection and bringers of diplomacy. It was the later that brought them glory and it was the former that caused their fall. Their constant and never-ending quest for perfection drove them to the debauched god Slaanesh." Galatea send orders via her wrist mounted cogitator for the tanks and troops.

"Damned fools." Olva said. "They believed that the path to glory was through that twisted god?"

"Their primarch was said to be the most beautiful of all his brothers." Galatea thought of the reconstruction remembrancer painting she had seen of the primarch in the archives. It was a beautiful painting, marvelous even. He was depicted with his soft, black eyes staring proudly forward, his silvery hair flowing wild has he was in the middle of performing an acrobatic display of swordsmanship. It was an early painting of the primarch, from the time before the Arch-Traitor started his rebellion. Before the primarch discovered the blade that would mark his downfall. There was a story of a painter aiming to capture the beauty of the primarch in her own portrait but could never find the right pigmentation for her paint. Frustrated, she started murdering her fellow remembrancers, using theirs and her own blood to give the paint the right shade of red. It was said that by the end of it, she used intestines to finalize the painting. _The price of perfection._ "Now he is merely a slave to the will of the god of pain."

"He deserves to be burned and cursed in sacred promethium." Olva said.

"Heretics crave the purification of flames." Tanya said as she pulled the stock of her bolter back. "They will have to settle with the blasts of my bolter."

"Don´t worry, sister." Olva said. "The tanks will bring enough flames to quench their thirst."

The elevator stopped, and they headed for their tanks. The Immolator was guarded by a dozen of Galatea´s sisters along with a swarm of tech-priests burning their sacred incense and making prayers to the machine-spirit.

"Palatine." The sisters greeted Galatea with synchronized bow.

"Tech-priests, finish your prayers." The Palatine commanded. "Sisters mount the Rhinos. We are going for the Western front. The heretics will not be entering our walls."

"By the Blood of the Hawk." The sisters hurried to the Rhinos while the tech-priests hurried their ceremony.

Galatea had little patience for them. She climbed on top of the Immolator tank and strapped herself into the pilot´s seat while the tech-priests muttered protests in code, though a few where wise enough to quickly finish their prayers.

Igniting the engine, the cockpit came to life with data-feeds and vox-channels. The machine started rumble before it growled with eagerness. Galatea wrapped her hand around the second ignition and fired up the main engine. The Immolator roared as smoke started spewing from the exhaust. Galatea double-checked the ammo counters and spoke into the vox-channel linking to the Immolator´s Rhino sisters. They were of two different patterns, all carrying Wings inside them.

"Forward, Sisters. For the Emperor´s glory and the death of the heretics."

* * *

They were meet with wounded soldiers and sisters behind the wall. Just by looking through the Immolator´s cam-feeds, Galatea estimated the losses to tower above the thousands.

"Captain," Galatea wasn´t even sure if the commander of the assigned on the Western front was still alive, but she opened a link to his command squad. "The is the Palatine of the Tail."

" _The_ _Emperor has blessed us._ " A voice answered.

"Who is this?"

" _This is Marc Garmo, sergeant of the eight division._ "

"Where is the captain of the forty-fifth battalion?"

" _Dead. I´m the next one in line._ "

 _Emperor bless us indeed._ Galatea readied her weapons and switch the light for her sisters to prepare to disembark. "Open the gate."

" _With fucking pleasure._ "

The gate opened, and Galatea heard the clang of bolter fire bouncing of the tanks armor. It was followed by another sound. A blast that made the hull tremble to the point that she could feel the vibration down to the controls. The gate opened quickly, and once it was open, Galatea smashed her boot into the accelerator and the Immolator charged forth with the Rhinos at its back.

The squad of Emperor´s Children that where so eager to fire at them where crushed beneath the Immolator´s treads. The tanks climbed over the first trench with guardsmen cheering over their arrival as the sisters passed over their heads.

The peppering of bolter rounds had seized, but the trembling blasts got stronger. Galatea could see the crude machine that produced it. _Made to annihilate infantry. Terrible for penetrating armor._ She sent some simple formation orders to the Rhino pilots and prepared to disembark the troops she carried.

The tanks got into position and the Sisters of the Wings disembarked.

"Make for the first trench." Galatea ordered through her sisters vox-channel. "Reinforce the guardsmen while we push the traitors back."

The tanks assumed a spearhead formation with the Immolator at its front. Blasted but unbothered by the Emperor´s Children´s sonic cannons, the sisters pushed for the second trench.

" _Palatine,_ " Olva called from her Rhino on the flank. " _Daemons incoming from the southern flank._ "

Galatea looked at the Immolator´s cam-feed to confirm. "Break up formation." She called over the main channel. "Vindicator Rhinos, head forth and disable the heretic´s armor. The rest of you, guard my flanks and ignite the flamers."

Receiving conformation, Galatea turned the Immolator and charged the primary promethium tanks.

The daemons came in a pink-grey swarm. Their movements swift and elegant beyond anything a human could perform yet filled by enough arrogance to make Galatea sick to her stomach. In spite of their need for performance, the daemons moved swiftly across the muddy ground. Galatea had just managed to adjust her tank when they had her surrounded. Their claws scratched against their hull as their ethereal shrieks passed through every layer of armor between Galatea and them.

Galatea fired the top mounted flame throwers and sent the top spinning. The combination blanketed the Immolator in a coat of bright white, liquid flames. It was a whirlwind of fire. Both flamethrowers swung whips of fire that it wrapped around the hull of the tank. The daemons where washed of the hull by the flames.

The Rhinos ignited their own flamers and released thick turrets of the white flames. The swarm of pink-grey daemons where quickly splashed aside by the flames and turned into displays of black charred statues that spilled to dust at the slightest blew of the wind. Together, the tanks formed wall of fire that the daemons could do naught by throw themselves into.

" _Galatea,_ " It was the General who called her vox-channel now. " _You have a hoard of daemons coming in._ "

"We are already engaging them."

" _No, these are coming from the north._ "

Galatea looked at the Immolator´s console and saw the radar conforming the General. _Four kilometers away._ She opened the vox-channel and the radar bleeped in panic. _Three kilometers and eight hundred meters._

"Wings," Galatea voxed. "We have daemons coming from in behind. Engage them and hold them off."

" _By your word, Palatine._ "

Changing the Immolator´s gears, Galatea prepared to turn around. She sent simple commands to the Rhinos, ordering a small force to join her while the rest would stay behind and hold the line.

" _Palatine,_ " Olva came through the vox. " _The vindicators have taken significant losses. Only three Rhinos remain standing. It won´t take long for the heretics to break through our lines._ "

The hand that held the Immolator´s speed gage trembled. "Fall back and aid the Wings in holding of the assault from the north."

" _Understood._ "

Galatea changed her orders. She ordered the Rhinos that she was going to use in aiding the Wings where going to face the Emperor´s Children coming from the west.

The infernal cloth that had covered the Immolator was canceled and Galatea made quick reverse turn with the tank. The moment she had the war-machine angled properly, she brought it to a harsh stop and switched gears before stomping her boot into the speed gear so hard that it nearly broke. Mud spread over the gears as the tank charged. Her sister tanks followed her in a nearly perfect unison. The muzzles of their flamers glowed hot-red, eager to spew forth more flames.

The Emperor´s Children ran before their tanks, blasting their sonic weapons against the hull of the sisters´ tanks. Galatea´s first order was to stop, and the tank formation came to sudden halt. Her second was to press the triggers.

A wave of fire spewed from the war-machines. Spilling forth with froth of orange and black, the traitor marines where pushed back by the sheer force before being boiled inside armor that had long fused to their flesh, making it crackle and break like skin.

"Slow retreat." Galatea ordered as she switched the gears again. _This will never hold._ "General, consider the Western front to be lost. I will order my sisters to make a slow retreat, but it will only be a matter of minutes. I suggest you give your soldier the same orders."

" _Understood, Palatine. The southern gate is struggling to hold of the incoming attacks by the daemons. Requesting reinforcements._ "

"Negative. The southern gate is to far away. I will grant you permission to one squad of Repressor Rhinos with Talons reinforcements."

" _Thank you, Galatea._ "

Suddenly, the flames where thrown upwards, like a wave breaching on a stony shore. Falling back to the ground in little flickering tongues, Galatea could see what caused it. Walking on segmented legs with flesh stretching over its factorum-made tendons and powered by the energies of the Warp, the behemoth´s very existence was an abomination to the Martian Machine Cult. _So, this is what destroyed my tanks and killed my sisters._

Rather than a head of a beast like the ones Galatea had seen long in the past, this Forgefiend had its jaws stretched outwards so it could scream in sounds that where enough to brake through the armor of a Rhino. Seeing its newfound prey, the machine-devil burst forth a wave of sound that kicked Galatea back into her seat and smashed several cam-feeds on console. Shrugging the impact of, even as she felt her fingers going numb, Galatea charged up the engine.

"All units lay down suppressive fire and fall back to the gate." She spoke over the main vox-channel. "I repeat; lay down suppressive fire and fall back to the gate."

Pulling back a lever the Immolator made a small leap backwards before the treads took hold of the mud and dragged her backwards. A trial of fire spread before the tank´s front, leaving roaring flames that charred the wet ground. The Immolator´s sister tanks followed in formation.

Like an animal seeing its prey flee, the Forgefiend reacted with all the instinct and thought of a beast. It leaped forward like a hound, the Hades Autocannon´s on its side fired without any unison or coordination, each simply flailing madly around hoping that some of the bullets would find a target. The sonic cannon was another matter entirely. It knew exactly where its target was and took a firm aim as it charged. The innards of its maw vibrated with anticipation before unleashing an invisible shot of daemonic fury.

It was stronger this time. The outer hull of Immolator bent and drops of the still burning promethium managed to drip through the cracks and found its way to the driver´s seat. Galatea only noticed it when her robe caught fire. As she was performing a turn with the tank, she tore the flaming robe of and tossed it on the floor where the raging flame swiftly starved.

"Sergeant Marc," Galatea voxed when the tank was fully turned. "open the gate and keep it open for two minutes. After that the gate will be closed."

The vox only buzzed in response.

"Is that understood, sergeant?!"

The answer didn´t come from the vox, but from the Capital´s wall itself. The gate opened, and guardsmen ran eagerly for it, even if most of them where skewered on spears carried by hunters riding serpentine mounts. For a few lucky, this was the end of them. For others, the daemons let them slowly sink down on the spears as their mounts injected them with venom from their thin tongues. Their screams echoed inside the hull of the Immolator.

"I hope he understood all of it." Galatea muttered to herself.

The tanks returned to formation. The Immolator turned its flamers to the rear and left flames behind it. Vindicator Rhinos moved slower than the others. Their massive cannons shaking the entire tank as the drivers hoped to hit the daemon engine.

Skittish and mad in its movements, the Forgefiend moved in a way that mimicked the daemonettes but was only a poor imitation by comparison. One shell hit one of the autocannons, smashing the barrels and rending the weapon useless. Shrieking at its lost weapon, the machine-daemon used its pain to charge another blast of its sonic cannon.

The boom pushed Galatea forward so hard that the wind went out of her. Only the straps covering her chest stopped her from smashing her head into the tank´s console. Lights flashed, and alarms yelled. They warned about damages to systems and errors in gear shifts. When Galatea pushed the gas, the Immolator barely accelerated.

 _Curses._ Galatea prepared the nitro fuel reserves, a final measure that would enrage the machine-spirit before outright killing it. She pulled hammered the key with her fist, and the tank roared as thick, black fumes spewed from the exhausts at the rear. The sudden burst made the Immolator kick to life.

The Forgefiend stumbled forth of crushed hydraulic legs, the gears growling in revolt.

The Immolator climbed across the first trench. Galatea ignited the second charge of nitro, giving the tank a second push to climb over the trench. From there it was a short but clumsy drive before Galatea could drive through the gate. Despite the machine-spirits objection, Galatea drove the tank of the side before leaving the dead machine. Her cogitator displayed the time. _One minute and_ _forty seconds left._

The sister tanks followed in rough formation. The Vindicator Rhinos where the first to enter. Their fronts facing the enemy. Guardsmen pressed in between where they could. What looked like a squad without its sergeant tried to wedge themselves in and ended up being squeezed. The one in the front was quickly pushed aside by his squad mates and ended up being trampled beneath their boots. He rolled out of the way and ended up in the path of a backing Vindicator. His innards where crushed out through his sides. Though what remained of his squad tried to fall back into the hive Galatea put a quick stop to their retreat with a single bark from her bolter.

"Return to formation!" Galatea shouted through her vox-grill. "Take positions by the entrance of the gate and open fire on any heretic or daemon that tries to enter!"

They hesitated. One of them ran eagerly forth.

Galatea blew his head of with single shot from her bolter. "Now!"

The doubt they housed disappeared and the guardsmen went into formation.

It was not long before the daemons tried their luck on retreating guardsmen or simply leaping on top of the Vindicators and sprint for the hive. The guardsmen blasted the first daemon they spotted with their lasguns. Their aim was poor and their coordination worse, but the sheer amount of shots resulted in a few managing to find their target. The final Vindicator backed in and the Sisters of the Wings fell back. Most of the sisters where armed with chainswords slick with viscera, but as standard, they all carried at least one boltpistol. Not that this was enough to deter the daemons. They charged gleefully forth and made ribbons of the skin of anyone they slew.

They wanted to stay and fight. Galatea could tell by the constant growling of their chainswords. But doing so would just be a throwing their lives away in vain. "Fall back, you idiots!" Galatea´s vox-grill barked.

The Wings ignited the thrusters on their jump packs and leaped through the gate, leaving the path open for the remaining Rhinos.

Deprived of – what they considered their playthings – the daemons made shrieks of protests and insult of cowardice that only made sense to minds twisted to find pleasure in the same perversions. They took to sprinting through the gate.

Galatea let herself produce a laugh of mockery.

The Rhinos drove over them with the same bother they would drive over plains of grass. The one daemonette that managed to outrun the tanks was blasted to pieces by Galatea´s bolter.

"Close the gate." Galatea voxed the sergeant.

Once again, her answer came from the gate itself rather than the vox. Groaning, the towering doors started folding inwards and the gate closed with the flames from the final Rhino spilling between.

Even with everyone inside, Galatea had no chance for rest or respite.

"The western front is lost." She spoke into the closed vox-channel between her and the General. _We will have to fall back to the second barriers soon._ A hive city of this size was not something that would easily submit. The tallest spires sat on peaks that towered kilometers above the ground. _Should the daemons and Emperor´s Children brake through, it will take days before they have this city conquered._ Galatea thought. _If things keep as they have for now._ She knew that it would never stay as it was now. With everyone that the Emperor´s Children captured they would perform more and crueler rituals, summoning more and stronger daemons as a result. Galatea sighed.

"General?" She voxed when she realized no conformation response had come forth.

" _Palatine,_ " Garius answered." _We may yet outlast this siege._ "

"That´s a bold statement, General." Galatea replied. "Me and my sisters have already devoted our lives to the Emperor. We are prepared to die, taking as many of the heretics with us as we can before we fall. Are you not willing to do the same?"

" _When the time comes, Galatea._ " Garius voice came with relaxed ease. " _But not today. Look to the sky. What do you see?_ "

Puzzled by what the General said, Galatea did as he suggested. "Smoggy clouds."

" _And?_ "

"And…."

Diving through the clouds, ships of dark crimson adorned with insignias in the shape of skulls. One of half of the skull was black, the other white, all of encircled by a gear toothed circle.

 _Mechanicus._


	76. Chapter 73

The black rose chapter 73

Fire rained from the sky. The flames started small, barely the size of a hand and died before they could even touch the ground. They grew. The rain splashed out in puddles of crackling orange. The clouds cracked with the roar of thunder. The subtle trickle turned into a downpour of fire. The sky lit up with an inferno birthed from the burning rain.

Hidden in the could above, the ships of the machine-cult dispersed blasts of chems in soft blows. To the naked, organic eye, this looked like no more than a puff of wet air. But the finetuned and machine crafted eyes of the Mechanicus, the chems glowed. The more achieved and higher ranked of the tech-priests could even detect the interjections between the chems they dispersed and the carbostructures that remained. Regardless of rank, they all saw the carefully and inefficiently produced chems being spent on what some thought a waste. The reactions were releases of power. The chems made the water gain weight, sending it to the ground. The heat that generated by the friction of air against water ignited the fire stored inside the drops. Alone, a single drop was hardly enough to warm a cup of water, but with clouds as thick as the ones hovering above the Capital, charged with the tons upon tons of chems-charges from the Mechanicus ships, the smog filled clouds released flames strong enough to burn through flesh, stone and ceramite.

The rain was only hard enough to ripple across the Hive´s void shield, but some drops of fire still managed to find their way through, sometimes even overwhelming the shield to the point of breaking it. Those below the broken shield had little time to notice the rain, and when they did it was always too late.

* * *

"What in the thundering seadevils of Fenris is happening?" Tor asked as he brushed of a flame that had landed on his shoulderpad.

Hjalmar chuckled in quiet disbelief. "Don´t know, but its burning everything and everyone outside the city walls."

Screams delirious with agony and frustration echoed against the walls.

"You´re bloody right." Tor tilted his head to the sky. He pointed his sword upwards. "Look."

"Machine-sages." Hjalmar muttered. "We need to find cover from the fire."

"Aye." Gunwoll agreed.

"Guardsmen!" Hjalmar shouted. "Get on your feet and get out of open ground. That void-shield isn´t going to hold forever."

The sergeant said after putting down his vox-relay. "Lord Astartes."

"What is it?"

"Our orders are still to hold this line. We have received strict orders not to abandon our position."

"Could be worse for you." Hjalmar admitted. _A_ _dumber commander might have sent his troops out to into the fire to finish of all the heretics still alive out there._

"Sir, we have also received news that reinforcement from the Adeptus Mechanicus from Forgeworld Antoxi."

"Is that the local Forgeworld?" Hjalmar asked.

"Sir, yes, Sir." The sergeant performed a hasty salute.

Hjalmar turned his eyes back to the sky and watched the Mechanicus ships dive in and out of the clouds. He twirled with a braid in his beard.

"What´s haggering you, Captain?" Gunwoll asked.

"Don´t know." _But I have an idea._

"The only thing haggering me is that we have to wait in here while the traitors and daemons burn outside our walls." Tor flexed his fingers.

"If you wanna be singed to cinders, then feel free to steep out and start hunting." Gunwoll said.

"I am sorry, my brothers." Hjalmar turned his eyes back to the sky. "But it looks like this battle will be won by the Mechanicus."

"And their tricks." Tor snarked.

* * *

She woke by a flash of pain in her arm. Her eyes remained shut.

"Palatine."

 _Who´s that?_ Someone took her arm. Out of reflex, she fumbled blindly with her hand and tried to grab on to something firm. Someone took her hand and Emma´s squeezed.

"It´s alright, Palatine."

Her eyes opened, but only for a flash before closing again. "Who´s there?"

"I am brother Petrus, preacher of the Emperor."

Her eyelids ached as she tried to open them. The air burned when it touched her naked eyes. When she finally got her eyes open, he was a faint shape. Eyes sank to a close. The bell rang and Emma smiled.

"There is plenty to be joys about, Palatine." He said.

"What?"

"The battle is over. We have won."

Emma fell back down again. Petrus caught her arm. "How?"

"The Mechanicus have come to our aid." The priest said.

She opened her eyes again. She managed to blink, her vision becoming sharper every time her eyes opened. "Lift me up."

The priest helped her to her feet.

The ground felt solid beneath her feet. _I can stand again._ She looked at her arm. It had little red dots, marking puncture wounds from syringes and needles. The muscles felt cold when she flexed them.

"You can thank the Hospitaler. She managed to combat the venom that was infesting your body."

Emma put her armored hand on her exposed palm. The ceramite felt cold and hard. A inversed reflection of Johana´s hand. The dream was still in her mind, though only in soft shadows. _Venom in my sinful blood. Along with the stims putting me to sleep._ Thoughts stirred in her mind. The exposed hand closed around the armored one. _And the entities of the Warp are spilling into reality._ Her hands folded and climbed over each other.

She put her hands to her side. There was no pain, but she felt the wounds beneath the armor. "The pain diminishers are still active." _Mostly._ Emma rubbed her arm.

"I would suggest you stay on the gurney, Palatine."

"So, you do." Emma picked her gauntlet of the floor along with her helmet and marched out of the Hospitaler´s tent.

"Wait." The priest called her just as she was about to leave. "Take this." He handed her a feather made out of silvery gold.

"It is wasted on me." Emma pushed it back into his hand and left the tent before he could protest. _Leaving his sacred feather of the Hawk with the tainted palatine._ She almost felt like laughing. _If only he knew, he would be as well of tossing his sacred artefact into a bucket of burning promethium._

Hundreds of meters above her head, the bulwark of the Capital´s hive blocked out the sky. Hab-blocks and machinery created a roof who´s thickness outreached the kilometer. She couldn´t recall how long Hjalmar had carried her, but she didn´t need to. Transports of guardsmen tanks carrying reinforcement drove past. A wave was enough to get them to stop.

"Palatine." The driver made quick, graceful salute.

"Get me to the front line." Emma said as she climbed onto the tank.

"We aren't going there, Palatine."

"Where are you going then?" Emma asked.

"Stopping by the first wall." He replied. "There are still marines and daemons that are trying to push through the broken gates."

"Just take me there."

The road that the tank traveled was hardly a straight one. At first Emma suspected this to be an intentional choice to make it more difficult for enemies to find their way through, but she quickly realized this was more of a blessing in disguise than anything created with forethought.

 _A seldom stroke of luck for some, mostly a curse for most._

"What kind of reinforcement have the Mechanicus brought with them?" Emma asked.

The driver whipped some of the sweat of his brow before he answered. "Only ships as far as I know."

"Ships? How many? What classes?"

"A few dozen maybe. Don´t know how the Mechanicus makes or classifies their ships, so couldn´t tell you what kind."

Emma folded her arms across her breastplate and her head sunk. She puzzled silently. Truth be told, she had little knowledge of the Mechanicus´ naval warfare herself, but she remembered their means of close assault well. Calculated and unrelenting. Where they applying the same strategy and means to this battle as well?

The sky brought her the answer. Bright, glowing and raging, the fire that rained from the black clouds where a mad inferno. Staring silently at it, Emma almost believed that it was the wrath of the Emperor himself pouring down from the sky.

The guardsmen stopped a good block away from the wall itself. The fresh troops quickly dispersed while medical personal took more grievously wounded and lifted them onto the transports to be carried back into the Capital. Though as they carried troops back, Emma noticed several soldiers being ignored despite having injuries that where far deadlier than others. She noticed every soldier being lifted of had the marks of sergeants, colonels or lieutenants on their uniforms. There was hardly enough room for all of them.

Vexed, Emma hurried away past the wounded and dead. She noticed a flame eating away at the robe next to her shoulder. She tore the fabric of and looked up. The void-shield surrounding the city was crackling under the weight and heat of the burning rain.

 _So that was their method._ Emma climbed the battlements and made up to the top of the wall. Outside the wall, was a sea of flame and fuming ash. The remaining Emperor´s Children either welcomed the new anguish and torment with lavish praise as orange tongues scolded their armor white or cursed their end by begging to inflict more suffering. The daemons laughed. They performed their dance as the flames wrapped around them and devoured them. Being spawns of the Warp, they where not dead. Merely banished back to the realm that they came from.

"It´s a good thing." A guardsman said. "To see the traitors to the Imperium be burned in promethium. Isn´t it, Palatine?"

"Those flames aren´t born from promethium." Emma said coldly as she stared out across the trenches. The basking warm light of the flames casting dancing reflections on her black armor. _Fanatics of a pervert god. Outcasts that forsake the Emperor. That is all that they are._

"Well the fire does purge, doesn´t it?" The guardsman asked after a silence.

Emma didn´t answer.


	77. Chapter 74

The black rose chapter 74

The rain ceased but the fires kept burning for hours. The Capital was surrounded by a moat of flames. Smoke, as black as tar rose out of the fire, coating the hive in a veil of soft, suffocating fumes.

The commanders gathered on the highest platform. First General Garius Lup, his cloths heavy with sweat from the heat and his crow perching on his shoulder. Sophia stood firm and proud. Galatea stared quietly forward, her helm resting under her arm. Hjalmar breathed heavily, his axe mag-locked to his thigh and the wounds on his face half-healed. Emma held her arm at the wrist and listened to the bell tinging in her ear. It rang louder than before. Her face was hidden behind her helm, where no one could see her chewing on her lip.

A ship painted in dark crimson pushed through the smoke and sank slowly down onto the platform. The skull insignia of the Mechanicus stared at the commanders before the ramp sank with a hiss. Three figures stood waiting behind the ramp. The first stood taller than the others on the spindly, needle shaped legs. It was only when the targeting reticules of her armor made a quick zoom that Emma remembered the tech-priest. _Leparios Domani._ The second, Emma knew by sight alone. Dressed in his uniform, his chest hidden behind his numerous medals, the Supreme Judge gave everyone a unique look as his eyes passed over them. The third one, Emma had never seen before. He was the shortest of the three, at least a head below Conrad. He wore the same robes as Leparios but had far more metallic vires and systems going through his cloth, as if he was wearing his devotion to the Machine-God the same way Conrad wore his medals, or he simply made little effort to hide it.

Conrad was the first to step forward. He tried adopting a pose a superiority but when Hjalmar grunted, Emma noticed a gleam of fear in his eyes, even if it faded like an ember in snow. The tech-priests followed. Leparios, walking on his freshly repaired legs, sprinted before his hunched cult-brother and meet Hjalmar´s gaze without tilting his head. The second tech-priest walked slowly. Gears hummed and buzzed with every movement he made. Scanners clicked in curiosity at everything they could perceive.

"Commanders of the Capital." Conrad said. "Your efforts to withhold the Heretical Astartes have been… admirable. But it would seem that the Mechanicus Guild proved the deciding factor."

"And we have all been thankful for them." Garius said with nod, though his crow cawed.

"What are they here for?" Galatea asked bluntly.

Conrad´s face folded before quickly straitening. He was about to answer when the short tech-priest stepped forth.

"Palatine of the Tail." He said. "Commander of the Sisters of the Hawk´s tank divisions and reserves."

"That´s right."

"I see you have accepted a machine-spirit into your body."

"Stop droning." Hjalmar broke in. "Answer the question."

"Very well, Astartes." The tech-priest responded without looking at Hjalmar, his blue dotted eyes remaining fixed on Galatea´s glass-and-metal eye. "I am Tarian Modali, Arch-Magos of Antoxi and acting governor of the sacred forgeworld. I have brought the Legio Mechanicus here to reinforce this world and fend the of the Heretical Forces that threaten to obliterate this planet."

The Arch-Magos´ words rippled with static and distortion from the vox-grill hidden beneath his hood. They seemed devoid of emotion or mannerism. Yet when he spoke, Emma was reminded of when she heard the Inquisitor speak before the Canoness. It reminded her of a man who knew and wanted more than he let you to notice.

"What are your plans?" Garius asked.

"There are preciously rare alloys in the soil of this planet. They must be harnessed for the construction of defenses around the planet. Particularly since most of our chems for initiating a fire like the one that saved your city have been depleted." Tarian answered.

"What kind defenses are you suggesting?" Galatea asked. "And how many? Hundreds? Thousands?"

"A single one. A Titan."

Galatea became still. Garius didn´t utter a word. Sophia remained firm in her stance. Even Hjalmar became silent.

 _A Titan? The larger kin of the Imperial Knights?_ Emma had never seen one. Few in the Imperium had. Titans were legendary war-machines. A single Titan could annihilate entire armies on its own. The blast from one of its cannons was enough to send whole battalions into oblivion. It was said that when a titan walked, the ground trembled. But they were also ancient constructions, taking hundreds – sometimes thousands – of Terran years to construct. _What exists on this planet that could make such a mighty God-Machine?_

"How do you aim to make a titan with the alloys that exist on your planet?" Emma broke the silence.

Tarian looked at Emma. His eye-dots fixated on the wolf´s head resting on her shoulder. "I have no aim of making a titan. I merely wish to awaken it from its slumber so that it may step forth and leap into the fray of battle ones more."

"I don´t like your riddles, tech-priest." Hjalmar said. "Say how you mean to bring a Titan to life before moss starts growing from my beard."

"Deep beneath the tunnels of the Dello, the Capital fabricator of our sacred Forgeworld, I discovered a vault that had been sealed thousands of years ago. For what reason, I couldn´t say, but the text etched into the seal of the gate told me all I need to know. The seal was held by a code that took me a full Terran decade to decipher. But when I deciphered it, I discovered what made me Arch-Magos today."

"You found the Titan, didn´t you?" Hjalmar said, hoping the end the story quickly.

"I found a vault, housing Titans belonging to a house long purged from this planet." His voice still carried no emotion, yet Emma could almost see Derik´s smug grin on the Arch-Magos.

"How many Titans?" Garius asked eagerly.

"Five, Lord General." Tarian said. "Two of the pattern War-Hounds, two of the pattern Reaver and one of the pattern Warlord. All locked in a comatose state."

 _Five?_ A small number in and of itself, but when measured in titans, it seemed so large it felt beyond possibility to comprehend.

"As you can probably suspect," Tarian went on. "I have tried my best efforts to awaken these mighty constructs of the Machine-God but gained no result."

"And you suspect that the right stones to awaken the Titans are on this planet?" Hjalmar asked, his bushy brows folding.

"Stones are insults to those minerals, wolf." Leparios grunted a code of condescension.

"It took years upon years of research," Tarian continued, not taking any notice of Leparios and Hjalmar. "But I finally discovered the missing components and to my luck, I found them at this planet."

"So why wait until now?" Hjalmar broke his glare to Leparios.

"I didn´t." Tarian said. "I tried acquire the minerals while the Cardinal was still acting Governor of this planet, but he refused to let my adepts even attempt an excavation."

The Arch-Magos was about to continue when Galatea interrupted him. "Why did you send troops to support the heretics?"

"What are you talking about?" Conrad said, anger grating in his voice.

"Before the Space Wolves arrived, the Talons company was taken by an ambush where the reinforcement was Mechanicus Soldiers. It was during that ambush that our Canoness died."

"Cease these lies." Conrad said.

"She´s not lying." Emma stepped forward. "I faced those machine-warriors myself. They nearly caused the destruction of the Talons."

Conrad inhaled as if he was about to rant, but Tarian raised one of his skeletal arms. "I admit, these warriors where sent here to support the heretics in their struggle against you. But my intention was never to destroy the Sisters of the Hawk, nor let the heretics win the civil war. My plan was to gain the sights that hold the minerals, awaken the Titans and betray the heretics. Ensuring their annihilation."

 _And now with the heretics defeated, the Cardinal dead and the Eye of Terror bursting wide open, you saw a fine opportunity._ It was easy to see, but impossible to say.

"Do you mean for us to have a deal with those that have supported _heretics_?"

Emma thought it was Galatea who said it at first, but when she heard the final word, it could only be one Palatine.

"You mean to taint our order further?" Sophia´s hands had clenched into fists, the claws ready to be drawn.

She had to bite on her lip, so no one could hear her laugh, though Hjalmar seemed to hear. Beneath his thick, orange beard, Emma could see the corners of his mouth jumping.

"We are still at war." Conrad said. "The agreements have been finalized and will be carried out. The Mechanicus will transport the Titans to our planet once they have been awakened."

Emma sucked her entire lip now. The skin broke and blood dripped onto her tongue, but all Emma could taste was the satisfaction. The breaths she drew where wheezing, soft things, a result of her concealing her laughter.

"How long will it take to get the minerals?" Galatea asked.

"Is this an interrogation? The deals have already been singed and agreed to." Conrad repeated with contempt in his voice. "By what authority do you mean to challenge them? How could you even challenge them after you have made deals with rebels to Emperor´s will?"

If Conrad assumed, or hoped for a reaction from Galatea, that she might break her temper or loose her calm, he was meet with no result. Galatea remained unmoved while Conrad threw his accusation at her.

The Palatine of the Tail stepped forward. "I mean to question it to ensure anything done to our homeworld is done by the will and authority of the God-Emperor of Mankind, who´s authority outreaches and extends us all."

Tarian walked up next to Conrad. The crimson robes concealing his machine frame shifted and folded as a segmented, worm-like arm grew from his sleeve. It held a flat, black square. "All details concerning the excavation are found on this Data-Slate." He said. "To give a brief answer to your question, I cannot be fully certain until the excavation starts and the amount of minerals available becomes established. Though my own estimations would suggest a few Terran months before we have enough to activate all of the Titans."

Emma looked to the sky. The black clouds still loomed. Crimson ships broke through the smog and descended down across the Capital.

"So that´s it?" Emma broke the silence that had been building for a few moments. "You excavate the minerals from our soils, awaken the Titans and send them here?"

Conrad sucked down a sharp breath through his nose. He looked ready to burst with anger.

"There is another reason why I have taken my ships here." Tarian said before Conrad could raise his voice. "The rumored STC that has been located in the Eyes of Terror. We wish to acquire it."

"We have already sent a ship into the Eye to retrieve it." Galatea said showing some puzzlement on her face.

"I am aware of this," Tarian said. "Lord Domani was present in advising his estimations for how many troops could be spared to sent into the Eye to retrieve it. His estimations are now invalid due to changes in circumstances. Taking into account the reinforcement I will bring, along with the high likelihood of the previous expedition dying in the Eye of Terror, I request that that you send another, considerably larger force to retrieve it."

The last few things Tarian said put Emma at unease. She knew full well how dangerous the Warp was, the beasts and daemons that dwelled within it. Her heart started flickering at the thought of them having already failed, that they had all died in there. She remembered the dream. _She isn´t dead. Johana is still fighting._

The amusement that had been hidden in Hjalmar´s face was all but gone. "Do tell me," He took a step forward, his boot crashing hard into the ground. "Who do you want sent in there?"

"I have no intention of providing specific requests in this regard." Tarian said. "My specialty is with regards to Machine-God and the deciphering the codes of its sacred texts."

Hjalmar showed disappointment with the answer. The wounds on his half-healed cheek turned purple as his lip was peeled back.

"How many can we send now?" Emma asked, unknowingly stopping Hjalmar.

"The current estimations would suggest a company worth of Sisters of the Hawk," Tarian said. "but the odds can always be improved with further and more capable soldiers."

"I volunteer." Emma said immediately, leaving everyone around her stunned, mildly puzzled or overrun with frustration.

"We will decide what we do later." Galatea said. "I will look over this data-slate and give my advice later."

The tech-priests walked back onto their ships. Conrad and Sophia walked of on their own. Galatea threw a gaze that showed mostly scorn towards Emma. Hjalmar stayed with Emma. His grey eyes filled with pride.

"You truly have strong guts, Emma."

Emma took her helmet of and looked up at the old wolf. "Do you remember what you promised me?"

"Aye, I do, and if Galatea doesn´t find a way to stop you, I´m going to break that promise." Hjalmar smiled.

"You can´t." Emma said. "This planet needs you and your brothers. The soldiers need you."

The old wolf chuckled in amusement. He smiled nostalgically. "Do you remember what I told you about the Vlka Fenryka?"

"A wolf can never be tamed or controlled, but show your strength, and he will grant you undying loyalty." Emma recalled the words clearly. They where simple and clear in their meaning. She stroked the wolf´s head that rested on her shoulder, and Hjalmar laughed a little. When Emma looked at the old wolf again, his smile reached up his cheeks. The skin over his fragmented bone broke and blood trickled down into his beard, but his lips did not move.

"The biggest difference, between you and me, Emma, is that I never took a vow to never tell lies." He went down to his knee, so his eyes meet Emma´s. "Into the Eye." The old wolf said, putting his hand on Emma´s shoulder.

"For Russ and the Allfather."


	78. Chapter 75

The black rose chapter 75

In the war-room, Hjalmar felt more cramped than he did in most quarters of the Capital. The first time he went into the corridor that lead to the war-rom, his forehead crashed into the archway causing a small gash on his head. After that he ducked beneath every door he passed. He thought at first that the laborers who built the corridors where simply sloppy and built for the size of mortals, but then he recalled he always stood at least a head taller than most of brothers. Even with that, he felt uncomfortably boxed in.

"So, Galatea," Hjalmar looked over the Palatine. "What does the data-slate show you?"

"The damages that where caused by Alfred will be repaired in a matter of days." Galatea stated drily. "We will have another fifty thousand troops, along with two hundred Warglaives, all from House Modali. They will also set up factorums for the constructions of Imperial Knights."

"We have also new medicial equipment, along with numerous prostetics." General Lup said. "We will be able to treat far more wounded and replace the limbs on those who lost them." Unlike Galatea, the General seemed very pleased with what they had gotten.

 _Return to the battlefield and you´ll appreciate it all the more._ Hjalmar thought. He always took a dislike to those who fought and commanded soldiers from behind the comfort and ease of a command throne. The crow resting on the General´s shoulder only compounded Hjalmar´s bitterness. _Crows carry nothing but lies._ He thought.

"Will it be enough?" Emma asked. "Is it enough for the Talons company to travel into the Eye of Terror?"

"I can never say for certain." Galatea stared at the datafeeds.

"Oh, stop stalling." Hjalmar said brutishly. "Are the Machine Cults numbers good enough that their additions will be enough to cover up for the Talons company leaving?"

The Palatine´s flesh-and-blood eye narrowed. The look on her face had marks of scorn but was overwhelmed by frustration. "They are. But I would still not advise them leaving. The Forces of Chaos might grow and return with increased fury."

"I can leave half of my company behind." Emma said, as if it would please Galatea. Instead it just made her confused.

"Why?" Galatea´s voice panted as if she was exhausted. "Why do insist on traveling into the Eye of Terror? What is it in there that makes you want to go there? And why are you suddenly willing to leave half of your company behind?"

"Johana is there." Emma admitted. "She´s my sister Superior… and a close friend."

"Anna is in there to." Galatea said. "She is a close friend to me. I know very well the danger she got herself into, and the fact that she may have very well died within the Eye of Terror. That she may have been consumed by the daemons that make it thier home. But I am not willing to dedicate my company, nor my life to try and save her now."

Emma didn´t answer. Her fingers twirled with a lock of fur from the wolf´s cape.

"I cannot speak for all her reasons," Hjalmar broke through with his booming voice. "But I can say why she is willing to leave half her company behind."

"Do tell."

"I am going with her."

"What?"

"I´m following Emma in to the Eye of Terror."

There was a solid minute of unspoken silence between the Palatine of the Tail and the old wolf. The look on Galatea´s face told him much of what he needed to know. She was disappointed and bitter. It was impossible for Hjalmar to tell otherwise. He knew the promises he had made to her. He guessed the assumptions she had made from those promises. But he also remembered the mark on his own honor. The shame he needed to redeem.

"Come back here, Hjalmar, and you will not receive a pleasant welcome." Galatea said.

"When I arrived her with my brothers, I came in an hour of need. I came when you needed to be saved. I stayed because I found great warriors. Now I will leave for one of those warriors." Hjalmar rested his gauntlet on the table. "I will return with the same warrior. And the sacred machine-box. I suspect that might not be enough for you, Galatea, but it will be for the Imperium."

Galatea didn´t answer. Instead it was Sophia who raised her voice. "The Sisters of the Hawk where once the purest of servants to the God-Emperor of Mankind. Now our name and honor have became tainted. With you gone we might regain a small fraction of our former glory."

Hjalmar sighed a growl at the Palatine of the Wings. "I´ve been a part of deals with heretics, its true. So has Galatea, and Emma. Yet the Palatine of the Tail now carries the name, Knights-bane. And the Palatine of the Talons is the Terminator-Slayer. While I have fought alongside them, I have seen them both defeat traitors to the Imperium that would have been the end of lesser warriors." Hjalmar pointed an armored finger at Sophia´s neck, at the wires that went in and out of her neck. "Yet during all this time all I´ve seen you do is brag about your failures."

The Palatine of the Wings flew out of her chair. "I slew the traitorous Inquisitor who murdered our Cardinal!"

Hjalmar chuckled. "Must have been a mighty challenge to kill a man who barely knew how to swing a sword."

Sophia crashed her armored hand into the table. The holographic projection flickered and cracked by the impact. She charged out of the room with her boots pounding into the ground. The General left soon after.

"She´ll hate you for that." Emma said.

"No more than she already hates you."

"She hates all of us." Galatea said, rubbing her fingers in her flesh-and-blood eye.

"Think you´ll handle her?" Hjalmar asked.

"I´ve dealt with her, and the Canoness for more than twenty years." Galatea answered. "Though neither of them hated me before. They just didn´t like me." The Palatine looked to Emma. She sighed as her flesh-and-blood eye visibly stared at the wolf´s head resting on Emma´s shoulder.

"I´m sorry, Galatea" Emma apologized. "but you can´t stop me anymore."

Hjalmar played with one of the braids in his beard. "You won´t be able to stop me either."

"As if I ever could." Galatea looked to Emma. "I was one the one who suggested you should be raised to Palatine of the Talons. The Inquisitor eagerly supported you."

"And now he´s been butchered by Sophia."

"She wanted to kill him for a long time. I think only the Canoness might have hated him more." Galatea threw a glare up at Hjalmar. "If she was still alive she might have punished Sophia for taking it from her." Galatea sighed again. "Emma, Hjalmar, right now Sophia wants nothing more than for the two of you too fail. She wants both of you go into the Eye of Terror and disappear for eternity like Corvus Corax or Leman Russ. Don´t give her that."

Hjalmar scoffed. "I´d sooner bow before the traitor Primarchs than give her any satisfaction."

Emma was silent.


	79. Chapter 76

The black rose chapter 76

For the battle brothers that sailed her, it had been too long since _Winter´s Wrath_ was a roar with laughter. Ale and mead spilled from kegs. Black-roasted meat was torn to pieces by pointed fangs. The floor had become slippery by spilled liquor and the juices of half-eaten fruits. Despite having already seen the wolves feast, Emma was still surprised by the amount of meat and drink they could devour. She watched them eat as she chewed on the butter drenched meat she had torn of the boar sitting on her plate.

Hjalmar was seated next to her, his beard shining with grease. He only made short pauses to empty his tankard and burp before he returned to a boar almost twice the size of Emma´s.

 _The Vlka Fenryka must have bottomless holes in their bellies._ Emma thought as she tore a leg from the boar and took a chug from her fifth tankard of ale. The wolves never used forks when they ate. The only thing they would put next to their plates where knifes that more resembled swords to Emma. Knifes that would quickly fall of the table when the wolves chantingly slammed their kegs into the table. They urged brothers who had started fighting on or around the table. Though the punches and strikes the wolves threw at each other where quick to draw blood, the fights always ended with the two fighters embracing each other and handing each other a fresh keg of mead.

"Hur." Hjalmar laughed at Tor tossing one of his pack-brothers over the table as little bits of meat and foam sprayed from his mouth.

"Shouldn´t you join them?" Emma asked before she forced a thick bite of meat down her throat.

"Nah. No one dares to challenge me."

"Is it-" Emma paused to wash down the meat with mouthful of ale. "Is it because you are their brother-captain?"

"If it where only that." Hjalmar laughed from his chest. "They know that they can´t beat me. And trust me, every single one of them have tried. Several times." He turned to look at Emma. "What? You think you can?"

"No." Emma answered as she swayed a little to her side. "I went…" Her stomach pushed up a harsh burp. "The traitor Marines where enough for me."

Hjalmar shrugged. "The daemons took a worse toll on me."

A shudder rippled through her skin. Her face ended up buried in her hands. "I…" A hiccup stopped her.

"Starting to feel it kicking?" Hjalmar gave her a soft pad on the back. "Aren´t you?"

Emma lips parted but she said nothing. She took another swing from the tankard. "It´s taking effect, yes." An intoxicated smile grew on her lips.

"Well, remember what I said about your mind." Hjalmar raised a finger.

"It´s a battle axe that should never be allowed to grow dull." Emma lowered his hand before he could continue. "And… yet." Emma gestured over at the Space Wolves throwing themselves over table, or sometimes throwing themselves into tables, smashing the wood into bursts of splinters.

"Some axes need stronger whetstones."

"Strange way of sharpening your axes." Emma slouched down into her chair. The rich, musty taste of ale ruled her mouth. She tried chewing down on more of the boar but found the meat so though to chew that it was a struggle to swallow. The leg ended up back on the plater with only a few bitemarks on it.

"Had enough?" Hjalmar asked when he noticed her setting the leg back down.

Emma nodded.

Hjalmar threw his own empty plater aside, took Emma´s and called for the serfs to bring her something soft to drink. A white, creamy liquid was put in front of her in the same tankard as the ones they served ale in.

"What is it?" Emma asked.

"Sweetened milk." Hjalmar answered. "It´s light on the tongue and eases the guts."

Emma raised the tankard to her mouth but stopped just before it could touch her lips. There was a skin on the milk. A layer that made it look thick and slow running. Though it was clearly sweetened with sugars, the only thing Emma could smell when she saw the liquid was warm sweat. Her arms softened, and the tankard spilled from her fingers, its contents spilled over her legs and out on the floor.

The old wolf took notice. "Are you alright?"

She hid her face. Her hand slid across her brows and hid her eyes. "I want to sleep." Emma muttered.

"Take her back to her chambers." Hjalmar called over some serfs.

The Palatine tried standing on her own, but quickly discovered she needed to serfs to lean on. The walk back to her chambers was more of a drag than anything else.

"Leave me." Emma said when she realized she was in her chamber. The serfs left without a word of compliance.

She crashed against the wall, and her stomach heaved. An unpleasant mixture of lukewarm mead and half-digested meat became a foul-smelling puddle on the floor. She sank down to the floor next to it. She wiped the few last bits of vomit of her mouth with the back of her hand. She spat, unsure if anything was left in her mouth.

 _Hjalmar, you put so much faith in to me. All for a tainted, lying whore acting as a pure palatine who purges the traitorous filth from the Imperium._ It hung inside her mind like the bitter taste at the back of her throat. She looked at the wolf´s head resting on her shoulder. _He gave me this because he admires my strength. My honest strength. Would the Emperor be cruel to not take notice? Would it be just? But who am I to even question His authority? None answers to the Emperor, for His will is divine and pure. It is divine and pure, and I must act on His will and accord._

It wasn´t long before the doors to her chamber parted. A giant in sky-grey armor entered. His nose wrinkled at the smell of the vomit. "Feeling any better?"

Emma shrugged slightly. "A little. Still can´t eat anymore."

"That´s nothing be ashamed of." The old wolf said. "You may have strong guts, but your stomach is another matter."

Emma giggled drunkenly. "You know the difference?"

Hjalmar snorted. Emma recognized the little twitches of amusement he made with the corners of his lips. "I know what a pure human has in their bodies. When it comes to traitors fighting for the blessing of their gods, who knows?"

"Cut their heads of and they seem to fall no matter how many new organs they have grown." Emma said with a sigh.

"You´re worried." Hjalmar said after a short silence.

"And why wouldn´t I be?" Emma looked up at Hjalmar without moving her head. "We´re only traveling into the Eye of Terror, the place where the Warp bleeds into reality. Where my sister has gone to retrieve a device that the Inquisitor thought might be important." Emma thought of the meetings she had heard that Derik had held with the Cardinal. _Strange he never seemed to mention it._

"I know why you are afraid." Hjalmar said.

"Do you?" Emma felt her stomach bubbling. "Aren´t the Adeptus Astartes supposed to know no fear?"

"If the Allfather had truly removed fear from His sons, none would have lived long through the Great Crusade." Hjalmar folded his armored fingers. "It's true we do not fear death. But fear is one of the greatest daemons that haunts Mankind. It takes on so many shapes and forms that once you´ve recognized one aspect of it, it hides in another. And even when you know it, fear can still haunt you. There is one fear that haunts every one of us. My brothers know of it to, though some would not admit it. My father knew of it. It was the fear that drove him into the Eye of Terror almost ten thousand years ago."

"How do you know it was fear?"

"Because he fled." Hjalmar´s voice became a bitter shill. "He fled from his faults. He fled from his failings as he felt life draining from his veins. He fled because he feared dying with sharp blade resting in his hands." The old wolf´s eyes where always hard as ice, but now they seemed to be on the verge of shattering. "He fled because he feared seeing himself becoming a feral beast."

"Do you fear that?" Emma raised her hand up to touch his gauntlet.

"I fear dying a stain on chapter´s honor." Hjalmar looked at her with eyes murky with tears. "I fear being remembered a weak, sickly dog who would have done his brothers better by dying long ago."

Emma touched his arm. "We all die. No matter what we do. But when we die, it will be the Emperor´s judgement that rises above all others."

"Is that written in one of your texts?"

Emma nodded.

"And what do you think?" Hjalmar asked, his voice becoming soft and warm.

"I believe that the Emperor will-" Emma cut herself of. "No, that He has taken notice of us. He is watching us now, eagerly anticipating our results."

Hjalmar smiled at her optimism. It did not last long. "The Allfather sits on His throne. Trapped in a perpetual state of undeath as he lights the Astronomicon."

"And yet His spirit guides us. His divine will is spread through the Warp as He constantly keeps the Gods of Chaos at bay."

The old wolf´s grey eyes looked at Emma with a deep fascination and bewilderment. It seemed like Hjalmar struggled partly to believe what the Palatine was saying while still devouring every word that came out of her mouth.

"Can you answer a question for me, Emma?"

"What is it?"

"What - inside the Eye of Terror - is more important to you; the STC or your sisters?"

"…Neither and both."

"You´re a bloody enigma, Emma."

" _I´m a simple man."_ The words of the man she interrogated echoed in Emma´s head. She tried recalling his name and face, but she only saw defragmented shapes and forms of numerous faces. His name was just as lost to her. Only his voice rang clear next to the bell in her hear. " _The simplest man I´ll ever meet." That´s what he claimed._ He wanted something that so many others had wanted of her. _He definitely was. He was the simplest, worst man I have meet._

"Hjalmar," Emma climbed clumsily to her feet. "You are a savage, brutal wolf from a world I will never see. Your father was one the most loyal and stalwart sons of the God-Emperor. Russ inherited his Father's strength and ferocity, but with it came a brutish animosity. Like all of His sons, Leman Russ was a display of humanities most brilliant virtues. He rejected the decree by the Lord of Ultramar and choose to keep his legion at full strength, the way the Emperor wanted. Whatever Russ may have chosen, he always saw the Emperor´s will through."

"Are you going somewhere with all this praise or are just trying to bolster my spirit?" Hjalmar had sat immobile in front of Emma, listening to every word that she said with his chin resting in his hand.

"Our Cardinal idolized the Ultramarines, the Sons of Roboute Guilliman. He told us that they were the purest and the finest warriors that the Imperium had ever created, that they were the only Chapter of the Space Marines worth admiring." The rest went unsaid as Emma felt herself sliding back against the wall and hitting the floor with her backpack grinding against the hull. It didn´t make much of difference. Hjalmar smiled and laughed warmly from his chest.

The ship started trembling.

"We´re entering the Warp." Hjalmar said.


	80. Chapter 77

The black rose chapter 77

 _How long as it been? How long as it been since we left? How long as it been since she left? How long as it been for Galatea? How long as it been for Johana?_

Emma only had the answer for one of the questions. The answer was wrought with dread, because she could not tell if it was even true.

They traveled through the Warp like a galleon sailing through a stormy ocean in the long-lost times on ancient Terra. The energies of the Warp tried unrelentingly to take hold. They felt it trembling through the hull, as if it meant to tear it apart. The Gellar field generators where constantly heated to their maximum potential. Emma held regular sermons for the crew, quoting texts from the Lectitio Divinitatus about the Emperor´s light and His strength. She held them at first wearing her full set of armor but tried holding it with her helmet resting under her arm and her hair flowing wild. She assumed it would lend the whole thing a more personal and passionate aura, though she only felt the whole thing being more hallow and pointless than it already seemed. They would regularly hear stories of serfs succumbing to the corruption, or even stories about part of the hull bleeding from veins that pulsed through the metal. Whenever Emma heard of such tales, she knew what was needed. She dispatched her sisters to purge anyone suspected.

Most of the wolves gave nothing of disapproval, but those that did let it show with the cold gazes they throw anytime they saw a sister walking down the halls with an ignited flamer. The ones that showed any sign of disapproval were the youngest of Hjalmar´s brothers. The old wolf himself didn´t endorse it, but he knew just as well why it was needed. He lectured all his brothers of the necessity of what the sisters where doing, to what little effect it had. Not that sisters performing their duties of purging showed any regard for the wolves´ distain. They simply walked through with the flamers and created roaring furnaces with infernal firestorms unleashed by their promethium charged weapons. The black-clad sisters walked out of the flames with glowing, red eye lenses.

Each time her sisters had to perform a purge, fewer would attend the sermons. Though Emma couldn't blame them, she also pitied them. The less people attended the sermons, the quicker the corrupting powers would take hold. She found herself needing a keg of mead after each ceremony.

When they finally emerged into realspace, or as real as space could be in the Eye of Terror, the sisters had almost depleted half of their promethium stock. Not even Hjalmar knew how many crewmembers had been purged with it.

"Here we are." Hjalmar and Emma stared out from the colossal observatory window, down at the grey, dead planet below.

"The planet that holds the STC."

"Aye." Hjalmar agreed. "Aye…"

The Palatine´s blue eyes drifted through the void around the planet. Her eyes found what they were looking for, but what they found still made her skin cold.

"The ship." Emma pointed towards a significantly smaller, idle ship drifting quietly through the void, hovering in orbit by the invisible force of the planet gravity.

"Bugger." Hjalmar cursed once he noticed the ship. He opened a vox-channel to the command deck. "Get us closer to that ship and get auspex scans on the damn thing."

Some crackled words where all that Emma could pick up on in response. The ship turned moments later, quickly putting the idle ship out of view from the window.

"I´m not going to lie, Emma." Hjalmar said. "I do not like the silence coming of that ship."

"At least then I´m not alone."

* * *

Emma was in the command chamber with Hjalmar and the chief tech-priest from the Machine-Cult from Fenris. Using an unnatural amount of multi joined fingers, the tech-priest´s held its arms perfectly still while the fingers clicked through hundreds of parameters of code in a mere moment.

"As you can see," The tech-priest said. "There is no sign of life or activity that we can find from our scans. Though the ship is rather small - little more than a personal carrier – we should be able to even detect the smallest of life-signs coming from it at this distance."

"So, it's a dead hulk." Hjalmar commented.

"From what our scans suggest, yes."

Beneath her helmet, Emma closed her eyes and bit down on her lips. She only opened them when she could taste blood. "Do you have any log-data from the ship?"

"No. Every cogitator appears to be cold." The tech-priest replied. "But what we can see," He turned a dial on the display, turning the hololithic display. Pressing a few more keys on the console, he zoomed in. "That there is one or more troop carrying transport ships missing."

"How large would they have been?" Emma asked.

"At minimum, Valkyrie size."

The taste of warm blood on her tongue was briefly pushed back. "They must have entered the planet."

"Wouldn´t call it impossible." Hjalmar said. "More than likely, thinking about it."

"What are your orders, Astartes?" The tech-priest asked.

"Same as they where before. We head down to the planet."

* * *

The tech-priests onboard _Winter´s Wrath_ where a mixture of the adepts from the Machine Cult on Antoxi, sent along as ambassadors to ensure that the STC would be handled by those that understood its power, as they claimed, and the ones already traveling with the wolves since they left Fenris.

They mostly spent their time away from each other. The Antoxi guild mostly discussing what the potential of the STC could be and what secrets it might hold. The tech-priests of Fenris maintained the Space Wolves´ armor and war-gear, taking any chance they could find to goad their efforts of pleasing the machine-spirit of the sacred armor of the Adeptus Astartes.

When preparing for planetfall, the Fenrisian Machine Cult prepared the sky-grey Thunderhawks by burning their usual incense and chanting while working on the ships. Servitors preformed routine performance tests and performed simple repairs where they were needed. Apart from the binary humming of the tech-priests and the clang of hull´s being repaired, the Thunderhawk hangar was a silent tomb.

With the sudden crack of lighting, giants clad in armor that shared color with the Thunderhawks broke the silence with the hammering of their boots. Bones, fetishes and skulls clanged against ceramite as the wolves plodded forward. Hjalmar, taller than all, marched at the front. His axe was firm in his hand and his shield was flung over his shoulder. He led a pack made up of almost one hundred Space Wolves. Grey-hunters, veterans of hundreds of battles and Blood-Claws, Neophytes freshly finished from their training. They where all younger than the old wolf. He had seen them all from grow from the age that they were barely large enough to walk, to were they were now.

Sisters in black armor entered from the opposite hall of the hangar. Their Palatine lead a company of over four hundred warriors of the God-Emperor. A sword with a hawk´s head pommel hung by her side and a wolf-skin cloak spilled behind her, a wolf´s head rested on her shoulder. Behind the sisters came the tech-priests sent there by the Antoxi Machine-Cult.

Without any words shared between them, the sisters and wolves divided into their feathers and packs before loading themselves into the Thunderhawks. The two commanders shared a Thunderhawk with their closest guards. The tech-priests of Fenris where isolated to their own, smaller ship marked with the signature skull of the Adeptus Mechanicus. Hjalmar had forbidden the cult from Antoxi from making planetfall.

Emma removed her helmet once the ramp closed. She looked up at the old wolf, who seemed still as stone. He looked at down at Emma, assuming he was presented himself as stoic, though the Palatine could see through his façade. She assumed that his brothers could as well. She wondered how convincing her own veneer was. _If Hjalmar is afraid, if he feels and knows fear, then what is it that I am feeling? Terror? Panic?_ She looked at her sisters. Their helmets making them unmoving and unshifting statues in their harness thrones. The wolves where the same, statues made of different material and made with a far grander design.

 _Hope._

She settled on that.

 _I feel hope._


	81. Chapter 78

The black rose chapter 78

The Thunderhawk trembled in silence as they descended through the black planet´s atmosphere. Fire screamed as it licked the white-glowing hull. The sky-grey hull was scared black by the orange tongues.

Strapped into their seats, the sisters and the wolves trembled as the hull did.

Her helmet sealed firmly in place again. Underneath the ceramite, Emma closed her eyes and prayed silently.

"God-Emperor of Mankind," Emma whispered. "Preserve us and let us unleash our wrath onto your enemies. Grant us the strength to enact your will. Grant us the resolve to see it through. Grant us…" She meant to continue. "Grant…"

The old wolf looked at her with the same silent, cold, grey eyes he had been using for the last hour.

 _I would only ask for this; grant me my son. Grant me the chance to see him once again. God-Emperor of Mankind, grant me this, and I will be your servant for all and ever._

It was another hour before the ships had pushed through the atmosphere and set down. The cogitator´s map display showed Emma their position. They had settled down in the center of a two-thousand-meter parameter where the last expedition was thought to have settled down.

The ramp descended and a desolated, alien landscape presented itself. Their bodyguards where the first to exit the Thunderhawk, followed by the commanders. Hjalmar stared across the black mountains and produced a soft chuckle. Emma gazed silently forward, her hand resting on the hawk´s head pommel.

The land looked ravaged. The black mountains and the cold wind showed no evidence that this planet ever contained life, but when Emma stared down at her feet, she saw the remains of snow-white bones peering out of the ground. She tried to pull the bone out of the ground. It was so brittle and soft that it shattered into crystals just from her hand squeezing it.

The troops carried within the thunderhawks spread out. The sisters performed their actions in rehearsed cohesion. Every sister knowing and fulfilling her role. The wolves drew thick breaths through their noses, sniffing the air while carefully tracing their armored gauntlets along the ground, looking for tracks. It didn´t take them long.

"Found a track." Tor called.

"What did you find?" Hjalmar asked. "Foot prints? Blood?"

"A Valkyrie ship."

Hjalmar and Emma hurried over. Resting, and half-buried in black dust, the ship was more resembling of a tomb than a troop carrier.

"Get it out of the ground." Hjalmar said. "I wanna see what it's in there."

Attaching chains and barb links to the upper hull of the ship and using a Thunderhawk for lifting, the Valkyrie was slowly pulled from the ground. Once it was settled on the ground, Hjalmar tore the jammed door of with his fists. He had to kneeled to push his head inside and took a few sniffs of the air.

"There´s no one in there." His brows folded. "At least no one has been there for a long time."

Emma pushed past Hjalmar to look inside herself. What he said was quickly confirmed, but things still troubled her. Weapons still hung on their racks. Supplies of food and water where still there.

"The Warp makes time flow in a strange way." Hjalmar said, noticing her concern. "This could have landed here a day ago or a thousand years ago."

"Any other tracks?"

The wolves, seemingly without any proper answers, went off to search for any trial they could find. They proceeded slowly, their faces to the ground while Sisters of the Talons keep their bolters up in front of them. Emma ordered her sisters to enter formation with the wolves. They were too keep too the flanks while the wolves searched for new tracks.

The old wolf stayed next to Emma. His breaths were thicker then they usually where. Though there were a thousand thoughts and none filling up Emma´s mind, she decided to prod at what troubled him.

"Something wrong?"

"The scent of this place." Hjalmar answered with his teeth slightly clenched. "It difficult to sense anything other than the bloody thick, pungent stench. It irks me."

Emma couldn´t sense anything smells herself. The helmet´s breathing grill was filtering and purging all air that passed through it. "What is that you smell?"

Hjalmar´s answer was to take a thick gulp of air through his nose. Several silent moments past before he let the air go. "Remove your helm and see for yourself."

Joints hissing as the seals broke, Emma took her helmet of. The smell wasn´t bitter like smog. It was something else, something foul and deprived, yet long dead. It was by no means unbreathable, but the taste and scent that the air carried with it coated every breath.

"Can you still track with this?"

"Aye, it's not a problem." Hjalmar sniffed the air again. "I just don´t like what I´m smelling." He headed off to follow his brothers, and Emma walked with him. Above them, a weak, sickened sun loomed, watching them like an unmoving sentry.

The wolves eventually found a track. Hjalmar was quick to head over to investigate. Emma couldn´t spot anything that resembled tracks, but she knew that the wolves saw and smelled things she could never notice. There was only one question that she had to ask.

"Is it an old track?"

"If the scent is still there," Hjalmar said. "Then the track isn´t old."

The sisters and the wolves followed the trail. They walked in a crude formation. While only a few wolves where needed to keep them on track, most of them followed little in the way of strict formation. The sisters displayed a different tactic. They walked in units of seven, forming two lines for every unit. For every two sisters walking on the front line, carrying bolters there was one that utilized the flamer and kept it at the ignition flame lit. The second line was always made up of sisters with bolters but every sister in the squad carried a weapon for melee, either in the form of a screaming power sword or a growling chainblade.

Hjalmar walked at the front of the trail, his flanks watched by two of his brothers on each side. He took his shield of his shoulder and let his axe rest in his hand, ready to activate both weapons with the simple push of a rune.

Emma was not far behind the old wolf, her hand constantly gripping the hawk-headed sword. Should it be needed, the blade would be unleashed before a human would have a chance to blink, though the Palatine knew beyond doubt that the only foe they might face here was anything but human. She walked in the center of formation of her sisters. Their weapons constantly held at the ready, fingers hovering above the triggers.

They walked through seemingly endless mountains. The spires that grew from the ground didn´t reach any clouds that could be seen, nor where they´re peaks white with snow. Black like the ground they grew from, but their faces had been smoothened by eons of weather carving the rock into a sheen mirror. The wind started kicking up, it carried soft ribbons of white ash barely visible before they passed by. Hjalmar´s nostrils twitched when he caught the scent of it.

"What do you smell?" Emma asked, concerned about the ash´s origin.

"Death. Ancient death."

The deeper they came into the mountain range, the taller the peaks seemed to become. Looking up, even the Space Wolves seemed small. Cold and firm, the peaks had an almost judgmental atmosphere with them.

Softly, like hallowed whispers, the wind brought forth new white ribbons trailing mouthless screams with them. The sound was damp enough for most to assume it was just the shriek of the wind, but for Emma, the sound echoed and resonated deeply. Unsure of the cause of the sound, she sighed and brushed it off.

 _This is where the materium meets the immaterium._ She thought, listening to the sound of her boots crushing the glass-like shards of the rock.

An hour might have passed - or a day - it was always difficult to tell, but Hjalmar called everyone to a halt with his raised axe.

Concerned by the sudden stop and silence that followed, Emma made her way to the old wolf.

"Have we…" Emma stopped herself and stared silently forward.

Growing out of the mountainside like a weed, a bone-white material made a vestige for an alien fortress that stood watching the valley before it.

"Know what that is?" Hjalmar asked without taking his eyes of the fortress.

"No." Emma confessed, but she could guess.

"Xenos."

When Hjalmar said that, dozens of texts – long forgotten to Emma´s mind – returned. She recognized the form of material.

"Eldar."

"Aye." A grumble came from Hjalmar´s closed lips. "What do the Eldar want with an STC?"

"It doesn´t matter." Emma stepped forth. "We are going to get it."

Hjalmar nodded. He signaled for everyone to move forward. They climbed down the hillside. They stopped at the edge of the tar-like puss that filled the valley like an unmoving river. There where drag marks and boot prints pressed deep into it.

Emma smiled at them. This meant they were on the right path. This meant they were going to find them.

Hjalmar´s face showed something very different once he put his boot down, and felt the mud swallowing his leg. It sank so suddenly it almost threw the old wolf of balance. He only managed to stop himself by crashing his remaining foot into the ground.

"How bloody deep does that go?"

Emma borrowed a banner pole from one of her sisters. The banner itself was wrapped, because it was not allowed to be displayed unless alongside the sacred banner that Anna held. The pole plummeted down until barely the tip was still standing. "There´s your answer." Emma said as she pulled the banner back up.

"Then how do we get across?"

"Are you joking, Hjalmar?"

The old wolf shot a puzzled look at her. "No."

Taking just a few steps to her right, Emma plunged her boot down into the tracks that the previous expedition hade made. Though the puss-tar devoured her leg to the knee, she found solid ground beneath her foot and quickly took another step.

A sound that was both a grunt and chuckle came from the old wolf. He ordered most of his brothers to stay behind while he took a personal retinue to head across the narrow walkway in front of them. Emma issued the same order.

The journey across was short yet made long by the mud holding onto their feet and the far from straightforward path that they had to follow to get across. Once they were finally across, Emma looked up at the fortress and the steep wall it sat on.

"It´s going to be a long way up." She said.

Not making a sound, but smiling visibly, Hjalmar holstered his axe and shield, before punching his open hand into the cliff´s face. He did the same with his other hands and kicked his feet into the wall. "Grab a hold of my back."

The Palatine did as she was asked. She wrapped her arms around Hjalmar´s backpack and the old wolf started climbing.

Hjalmar´s personal pack was made up of ten wolves and Emma had seven sisters acting as her bodyguards, making it simple for the other wolves to start the same climb as their captain.

With each push upwards, Hjalmar tore out chunks of black rock used the holes as grips. The climb took little more than an hour. Towards the end, the black rock was starting to become overgrown by the bone-white material that made up the fortress. Letting her eyes linger, Emma could see the veins that spread out over the rock shimmering. Like it was made from crystals and diamonds, yet looking at them, Emma felt a strange tingle spreading through her body. Starting at her fingers, running up her arm, collecting in her chest to sink down into her stomach but a moment later.

Above the final ridge, the sisters and the wolves stood before an overgrown vestige of a fortress that over the course of untold and uncountable years grown beyond its initial proportions and seemed to be aiming to spread itself across the mountain.

"Know what that is?" Hjalmar asked.

"Ancient and alien." The soft tingle in her stomach grew stronger.

"It´s wraithbone." The old wolf said.

"Are you certain?" She tried focusing on the little, ringing bell behind her ear to distract herself from the uncomfortable pulse in her belly.

"I´ve splattered these constructs of theirs to pieces and I´ve had own flesh eviscerated by the xenos matter." The old wolf frowned while speaking of it. "Aye, I´m certain."

Suddenly, without warning, Hjalmar´s head turned so quickly at his side that it looked like something had snapped his neck. Following the old wolf´s sudden turn, before the Palatine could ask why he did it, an answer came in the form of a miserable groan.

The sound came from the opening of a massive gaping arch-way. Before Hjalmar or any of the wolves had chance of moving, Emma ran to try and identify what caused the sound.

Sprouting from a pile of half-rotted viscera, a hand rose.

Emma pushed the mounds of sickly grey flesh away and revealed the Imperial soldier buried beneath. He looked ghastly. His skin was drained almost all fluids, making his face only a thin mask draped over the brittle bones beneath. Eyes that where once brown looked at Emma with a look that could only manage the most simple and subtle emotions. Regardless of how vague the expression in his eyes where, the Palatine took his hand.

"Who are you?" Emma asked.

"G…" His throat made ghastly, hissing breaths. "Garbo."

"Where are the others?" The Palatine failed to mask her anxiety and ended up squeezing the guardsman´s hand, breaking two fingers.

He showed no sign of pain when the bones softly cracked. His tenebrous eyes shifted slowly, from the red visors staring down at him the wolf´s head resting on Emma´s shoulder. His eyes only rested there for a short second before they stared beyond the Palatine, to the wolves.

"Death…" He said with strained, soft whisper. "Grant me death."

"Where are the others?" Emma squeezed his hand harder. "Where are the other Sisters of the Hawk?"

Whether giving up or failing from exhaustion, the guardsman´s eyes sank to a close, his head followed soon after.

"Hey!" Emma yanked him up by the straps of his flak armor. "Answer me!"

His head snapped and tipped. Vertebrates snapped out of their sockets with low clicks, until the back of his head smacked against his back.

"Damn." Emma closed his eyes. "We have to enter the cave."


	82. Chapter 79

The black rose chapter 79

The walk through the tunnel was almost enough to make Emma lose her senses. It wasn´t the countless bodies of the Eldar draping the floor that pressed her. No, it was the sight of two female Eldar being sewn together with their stomachs bulging. Once she spotted them, she had to brace herself against the wall to fall into the ground covered in the twisted Xenos remains. She clutched her hands tight to her stomach.

"My Palatine." Sister Everi hurried to her aid. "Are you alright?"

"This place." Emma replied as beads of sweat rolled down her forehead. "The energies are trying to corrupt us." The Palatine straightened herself and walked past the female Eldar without looking at them again.

They came to a spiraling abyss. They descended down the stairs edging the wall slowly, but after walking what only seemed like a few minutes, when Emma looked up, she couldn´t see the roof of the cave. Where they to be trapped in this stair case for all eternity? Wandering it until they would all be driven insane by looking for an exit?

The thought pushed ghastly shivers through Emma´s body, though it stood no chance of slowing her or stopping her.

The stair case was silent. The only sounds came from the pounding of their boots and the purr and hum of gears in their armors. It was only thanks to this silence, that Emma noticed Hjalmar suddenly stopping. She turned to look at the old wolf and found him staring upwards with his nostrils flaring as he sniffed the air with snoring breaths.

"What is it?" Everi asked.

Hjalmar didn´t answer. Rather he pushed he took a step forward and sniffed the air above the sisters. He drew breaths so thick and loud that it echoed between the walls.

"I´m not sure but I hope I´m wrong."

The old wolf pushed past the sisters and took the lead. He kneeled down and stroked the ground with his fingers to smell some of the dust that was draped over the steps. He inhaled a puff of it so thick that seemed likely to clog up his nose. Yet Hjalmar inhaled every last bit of it and held the breath for several moments, as if he was savoring the scent.

"Damn." He cursed as the dust drifted out of him.

He remained silent as he continued his journey down the hall, the sisters following him close behind, though Emma walked alongside him.

"What is that you suspect?" The Palatine asked.

Hjalmar didn´t answer.

"Hjalmar," Emma took him by the gauntlet. "Tell me."

"Eeeeehiiiii…" A frail, plaint voice called. The voice had no clear source, it was so soft that Emma might have thought to be a gust of wind, if she didn´t see Hjalmar´s features twitch at the sound. His eyes dashed from one side to the other, his face remaining still.

Without noticing, Emma´s hand had wrapped around the swords grip. It held the blade tight, she only noticed when the muscles in her arms flexed. Rather than easing her grip, the Palatine took the scabbard with her other hand and let the silvery, sleeping blade peak out.

Hjalmar turned away from them. He gazed forward, axe and shield held ready has his breaths became more akin to the threating growls of a goaded animal.

" _Paaaallllll_ …." Another voice. It was weak, just like the other one, but there was one difference, it came from behind them.

The blade was released with a sharp rasp, bolters where raised with stocks clamping against shoulders and the old wolf turned with a loud stomp. They were all ready to attack whatever daemon had attempted to sneak up on them. But just as quickly as Emma had drawn her sword, her hand opened, and the blade fell from her hand. Her sisters made no note of it because they came close to loosing their weapons as well at the sight.

She stood naked before them. Her skin clutched tightly to the thin frame that supported her. The muscles that once carried her into battle where reduced to oblivion. They hardly seemed to be more than tendons clinging desperately to her bones. The eyes that belonged to her were washed of their warm color. Only ashen crimson stared at them. Hair broken and brutally torn of her scalp hung from her head in isolated fragments. It was impossible for to recognize her apart from a black tattoo in the shape of a hawk´s wing on her cheek.

"Anna…" Emma pushed past her sisters. She walked cautiously forward and extended a hand to the Standard Bearer.

" _Phoooo_ …." Anna sank, as if the invisible treads that suspended her where suddenly cut. She fell into the Palatine´s hands.

Despite the shock, Emma held her sister tight in her arms and put her gently down. She was light, lighter than almost anything Emma had held in her arms. Sitting with the Standard Bearer in her arms, the Palatine tried to wake her up. "Anna." She said while giving her sister´s body a soft shake.

Hjalmar walked past the two sisters. "She´s dead." He said bluntly, though there was a hint of sorrow in his voice.

Emma sat still. Anna laid in her arms. The pale, red eyes stared up at her with an unspoken contempt.

"Emma," Hjalmar put his hand on her shoulder. "We need to keep moving."

Her hand moved up to the Standard Bearer´s eyes. With a soft stroke, she closed them. "Standard Bearer of the Hawk," Emma began as she put Anna´s body down on the steps. "Your duty is at and end. Your deeds and victories shall never be forgotten. Your virtues and strengths shall always be valued. Rest, for your duty is over and you can now enter the God-Emperor´s grace, for your life was one of purity and honor. Rest and may your soul be forever at rest."

" _By the Blood of the Hawk._ " The two sisters chanted.

"By the Blood of the Hawk." Emma added. "The God-Emperor protects."

"What do we do about her remains?" Hjalmar asked.

"We leave them here for now." Emma propped Anna´s body gently against the wall. She tore a piece of fabric from the robes on her arm and tied it over her sister´s head, covering her hair and hiding most of her face in shadow. "When we come back, we´ll take the body with us."

"Let´s go then."

 _Anna, Standard Bearer of the Hawk._ Emma took her sword of the ground. _What I saw was_ _meant to be hidden. As Palatine of the Talons, I forgive you for your misdeed._ Even unspoken, Emma knew that her words meant little.

They left the body alone in the darkness. The old wolf took the lead with the Palatine walking at his side, sword drawn. They descended deeper. The stair spiraling for what felt like a day but when Emma checked her cogitator, it claimed that no more than a minute had passed.

A presence grew in the darkness. Thick, unseen and utterly hostile, it pierced through the air and build like a visor slowly crushing inward. She looked at Hjalmar. His breaths where heaving. Every time air was sucked through his nostril, it produced a dry snort.

 _He can feel it too. He just won´t admit it._ The irony of it produced a short-lived smile that was little more than a twitch on the Palatine´s lips. However slowly, the pressure built. It began feeling as of fingers pressing on her temples, but with every step she took, it grew. Now she put her hands on the helmet, pretending to check the vox-caster but in reality, she was making sure that the helmet itself wasn´t collapsing inwards.

With ceramite crashing against the black-stone steps one of Emma´s sisters collapsed. She trembled and shivered violently while gasping for breath.

"Sister Alvora." Everi tried taking her sister´s hand but was only giving a crushing fist. Trying to get a grasp on her arm, Alvora´s hand snapped around her sister´s hand. It squeezed so hard that the ceramite started bending.

"Sister!" Everi cried.

Hjalmar reached out before Emma could. He took the arm grasping Everi hand pried the fingers apart with his superhuman strength. Once she was loose, Hjalmar pinned Alvora to the wall with a fist to her chest.

Wincing, Everi pulled her arm back. The ceremaite was bent down to the skin and blood dripped from the joint on her wrist.

Emma sheathed her sword and hurried up to Everi while constantly looking towards Alvora. "It´s the Warp." She said in softened tone.

"It´s trying to test us." Everi said. "And she´s fighting it."

 _We all are._

"I can still use my weapon, my Palatine." Everi said.

Emma looked at the blood dripping from her hand and found that difficult to believe. If bones weren´t broken, they were being cut into. She turned to Hjalmar. "How is she?"

"I can hold her." Hjalmar said. Alvora clawed at the old wolf´s gauntlet. She was furious animal in the grip of much tougher beast.

"How much deeper can this abyss go?" The question came with the bite of a curse. The Warp´s energies where going to manifest themselves stronger with every step they took. _How much longer before the daemons burst forth from the walls?_

Neither Everi or Hjalmar said anything as Emma peered over the edge of the chasm and stared down into the black oblivion. She looked up and saw a tunnel that spiraled up into a void of its own. To Everi, her Palatine was a stoic and unflinching statue. To Hjalmar, she was a leader unsure of what to do next.

 _Johana… where could you be?_

"Right before your eyes."

With one swift movement, Emma drew her sword and entered into a guard to counter an attack that came from behind her, where she heard the voice. She performed it with grace honed over years upon years of training. But when she turned to face where the voice was coming from, all she met by was Everi, her bolter clutched to her chest in a panic, and Hjalmar, eyes widened with surprise.

"By the Allfather, what are you doing Emma?"

She stood frozen in the guard. Her thumb rested on the sword´s activation rune. _I heard her. It was her voice._

"I am behind you."

Turning her head slowly, Emma looked behind her without moving her body.

"Come closer, my love."

Her blade sank though it did not leave her hand. She stared forward, out across the abyss and there she was. _Johana…_

"Step forth." She said. "You will not fall."

Emma glanced down into the abyss once more. Though she could neither see or hear anything down there, she felt a presence in the black, endless hole before her.

"It is merely another test of your faith."

The point of her sword raised. She held her arm out across the edge, and let the blade fall in her arm. It cut silently through the air. A stream of sparks burst from the point when it touched the black stone that the stair was carved out of. She saw it clearly, the sparks started when the blade meet the stair. But her arm felt the sword slowing before that.

"Emma," Hjalmar reached out his hand but couldn´t reach her when he kept Alvora pinned to the wall.

"Hjalmar," The Palatine closed her eyes and listened the bell. "Don´t try to catch me." She stepped over the edge.


	83. Chapter 80

The black rose chapter 80

"Don´t try to catch me."

Pinning the mad sister to the wall, the old wolf watched with bewilderment and terror as Emma stepped over the edge. He let go of Alvora and grasped for the Palatine of the Talons. His advanced physique allowed him to move faster than any mortal ever could. His boot crashed down on the edge. He almost threw himself over it as he reached. His fist closed around nothing but air.

Emma walked on without looking back.

His jaw hung wide open. The Palatine walked on nothing. There was nothing beneath her feet. No sound of her boots touching anything. Yet, she walked, her sword drawn but resting in her hand.

"Lord Astartes!" Everi screamed. The mad sister was on her again.

Hjalmar took Alvora by the throat and raised her above the ground. She was a light thing. Lighter than Emma. He turned back to the Palatine.

She walked forward. She raised her sword, gazing at the reflection in the edge. She entered a guard stand and let pierced the darkness with the point of the blade.

"Emma." Hjalmar´s booming voice echoed through the spiraling stairs.

The Palatine drew her sword back. She held it out to her side, showing Hjalmar the pristine, virgin blade. A flicker of her fingers followed and the blade found itself sheathed. Through the Palatine´s helm, Hjalmar heard her draw a final slow, breath. She took another step forward, and the darkness consumed her.

"My Palatine!" Everi reached her broken arm outwards.

Hjalmar stood still. He was as unmoving as a rock. Only his face, hidden behind his beard and uncut hair, moved.

"My Palatine…" Everi clutched her arm with a wince.

"Emma." The name floated past his lips in a whisper. It was small, no louder than a soft breath. Too small for Everi to notice.

"Why?" Everi asked. "Why did she walk?"

 _Why didn´t she fall?_ Hjalmar looked down. It was no illusion to it. His eyes would have noticed them. _What is this mad sorcery?_

They waited. They waited for they perceived as hours. Alvora had long since gone weary in Hjalmar´s hand but he refused to let go of her. _She will never leave._ Hjalmar looked down at Everi. She rested her arm while sitting unmoving and staring forward. _Neither should I, nor will I._

Hjalmar closed his eyes and listened to the spirits. They had been screaming since the Gate of Cadia fell. A never-ending shriek that he had struggled to keep at bay. Now he let loose. He listened to every sound he could hear and tried to the best of his ability to decipher any words or meaning from the endless sea of noises that rang through his senses.

Behind his closed eyes, the old wolf saw a crow, and heard the crackling of fire shattering bones. The bird sat perched on top of the bones, unflinching as cracks crawled across it and splinters splashed against it.

Hjalmar´s lip twitched at the sight of the crow. He bared his fangs and snarled.

" _Fear not, wolf._ " The crow said, taking to the air.

His jaw snapped, aiming in some vain effort to catch the crow.

" _One of the Sun, on an endless fatuous quest. The other of Iron, driven by lust as strong as her name would tell, promised her kin and delivered. Fear not, wolf, for the feast is about to begin._ "

 _Your kind bring nothing but lies._

" _A third. Of Iron as well, but brittle and untempered. He was enveloped and will soon be consumed. Fear not, wolf, for the thirst will never be quenched."_

 _Bugger off._ Hjalmar sealed all the gates he left open in his mind. He opened his eyes and found himself staring back into the darkness. Everi was still at his side and Alvora hung in his hand. He deep sigh flew out of his lungs. He sank. Everi seemed to remain oblivious of all his actions. Hjalmar closed his eyes again. When he opened them, a figure took shape out of the darkness.

"My Palatine!" Everi shrieked. "It´s a miracle!"

Emma stepped forward, her shape revealing itself from the dark. Her helm was gone from her head, her golden hair was left to spill across her black armor. Resting in the Palatine´s arms, while having her own arms wrapped around her sister´s neck, the helmet was the only thing covering Johana´s naked, famished body. Though her sister´s face was hidden behind the face plate and buried in the Palatine´s cloak, the look on Emma´s face was one of overwhelming joy and terrible pain. Sniffing the air, the old wolf felt Johana´s scent but there was another smell, one he did not notice before. A scent of freshly dried blood.

* * *

"It´s alright." Emma whispered to her sister. She was light. Like Anna, nearly all the muscle had been drained of her bones. Only thin strings of meat remained. But the thing done to her, was something beyond what the rest had suffered through.

"They are still waiting. They are still here."

Johana whimpered and pulled herself closer to her sister.

Hjalmar extended his hand to Emma, but she refused it. Quietly, she hoped that she would be able to walk past him and not have notice or ask any questions. A futile hope, she knew.

"What´s inside of her?" Hjalmar asked once he saw the stitched, still bleeding gash that cut across Johana´s stomach.

"The STC."

"What?" Everi asked, confused. "How can the…" She saw the wound and flinched at the sight. "Curse these daemons. May they suffer our wrath."

"How long was I gone?" Emma asked.

"Hours." Hjalmar replied. "How long did it fell?"

"Longer." She looked down at her sister. _How long was it for you?_

"Come on." Hjalmar took a few steps up the stair. "I don´t want us to stay here any longer than we have to."

Nodding in agreement, Emma followed with Johana still resting in her arms. Everi walked behind her. Despite her arm, Everi took her bolter and entered stance. She winced when she pressed the weapon against her shoulder.

They only had to take a few steps before they found Anna´s body resting against the wall. Her eyes had opened. They stared forward with blank, drowning expressions painted over them. Hjalmar closed them again and lifted the Standard Bearer to his shoulder.

Five steps later and they saw the gateway into the tunnel.

Hjalmar made a growl of warning.

Emma walked past the old wolf without a word. "Hold on." She whispered to her sister. "We are almost there. That thing will soon be out of you."

Entering the tunnel again, the smell of it hit her with a force that almost knocked her back. It was brutal. It conquered her smell in a breath. By the second breath, it had festered across her mouth. An acid spread across her eyes, drawing streams of tears. With her senses overburdened by the scream of the scent, Emma could only hear the bell ringing.

"It´s bloody vile." Hjalmar said, putting a hand behind Emma´s back.

Emma opened her eyes. She heaved breaths through her mouth, as if it would make any difference, and marched forward.

If the spiraling stair was shorter than before, the tunnel was somehow longer. Emma could swear she felt herself walking several meters, only to look down and see she had just barely lifted her foot. _Is this the work of the cruel gods? Is this their final effort to stop us?_ Emma though, mockingly. _Their brutality is lacking._

She walked forward, her eyes staring unflinchingly towards the end of the tunnel. Reaching the end, the sky was as grey and dull as when they entered. The meek sun spread its dim light across the black mountains.

The wolves where the first to notice her. "Terminator-Slayer." A few of them mumbled when they saw her. Her sisters were quick to bow at her return.

"Palatine of the Tail." They chanted. "Blessed is your return."

"Sisters of the Hawk." Emma raised her voice. "Wolves of Fenris. We have found our sisters. Only one of them still walks with us. Though the daemons sought to make a final act of their cruelty towards us. The STC, the sacred fragment that the Machine-Cult wants above all and that was the objective of our mission, has been placed inside my Sister Superior. They meant to make her the vessel of the machine artefact, but it will not stop us. We will bring her back and retrieve the STC from her flesh."

" _By the Blood of the Hawk._ " Her sisters chanted. The wolves expressed their enthusiasm by howling to the sky and hammering their fists against their breastplates.

The way down was trickier than the way they made it up. Using ropes and carving a crude gurney out of the black rock, Hjalmar was able to hoist Johana down the face of the mountain, while Emma waited down below. The moment the gurney arrived, Johana lifted a weak hand from under the wolf-skin cloak that Emma had thrown over her and took her sisters hand. The Palatine allowed herself to smile and lifted Johana in her arms.

Johana seemed fall asleep in her arms. When Emma showed concern that Johana might have died from bleeding, the wolves were quick to quench those fears.

"I can hear her heart." Tor said.

Johana remained still like this in her sister´s arms, until they reached the bottom of the valley. The substance that was once slow and thick like tar was now running. It was dark - like before - but now, without her helmet, Emma tasted a smell of iron. _Blood. It smells like blood._ The prints where long gone, erased like lines in sand. One of the sisters was forced to take point and feeling for the rock below with the banner pole. It was still wrapped, for the Sacred Standard was destroyed.

Finding their path across the substance that now flowed like a river, Johana started moving in Emma´s arms. She took a firm hold the edges on the Palatine´s armor and tried pulling herself upwards.

"Johana," Emma pulled her head back, unsure of what her sister meant. "What are you doing?"

A sound past Johana´s lips. Already weak, but muted by the helmet, Emma could only tell that it was a word. She leaned in.

Moving with a sudden strength, Johana flung the helmet off and wrapped her cracked, bleeding lips around Emma´s.

Her arms locked while her fingers snapped, hoping to form fists, the armor-clad fingers cut into Johana´s skin as they both fell into the river.

The black blood wrapped around them. It devoured them and suspended them. Her eyes closed when the moment their lips meet. When she opened them, Emma could see nothing but darkness. She didn´t fell the armor on her skin. She only felt the Johana´s lips on hers with her sister´s hand gently cradling her head. This was not death. It was not the end. The bell still rang.

A hand the size of Emma´s head gripped her arm.

Her hands found Johana´s arms, but they could not pull them away. Her lips closed, and twisted her head to the side, breaking the kiss.

Johana held her sister in her grip. Emma arm reached around Johana´s back and pulled her closer. _We can´t, Johana. I can´t._

The old wolf pulled them Emma up. Emma pulled her sister along. She broke through the surface and was meet with discolored sky. The disgusting mixture of colors minced in a sickly chromatic palette of oily paint. Holding her sister close, Emma climbed up as she gazed at the hideous heavens. She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand, certain that her eyes were being misled, only to have them repeat what they already told her.

Hjalmar eyes stared towards the horizon, they had long since sunk from the sky for there were things far more horrifying gathering before them. He pulled back his lips and snarled through his fangs. The dual hearts within his chest increased their pace, sending blood too his muscles in anticipation for battle. It didn´t matter where the old wolf turned. They came over the horizon. They came from the fortress. They came from the valleys. They rose from the ground, glisteningly wet and their beady eyes starved for perverse pleasures.

When Emma saw them, she pulled Johana close to her chest and drew her sword.

Daemon, or Warp-Spawn. Angels or Devils. Their names did not matter. They had the sisters and the wolves surrounded, and they were keen to let them wait, keen to let them try whatever mean they could think of to survive.

The Sisters of the Hawk entered formations. Bolters raised, and flamers ignited. The Wolves of Fenris drew their weapons and fired their weapons blankly into the air. Shows of strength. Displays of unity. Marks of discipline. Manifests of bravery.

There was an invisible line. A line that the daemons would not cross. A line where they swayed back and forth in manners seductive only to the most botched of minds. A line where the daemons watched the Sisters of the Hawk and Wolves of Fenris. A line where they laughed as if they were the audience of a macabre comedy.

Emma held her Johana tighter and firmer than she held her sword. She bit down to the point that her teeth started creaking. She watched the endless horde standing before them and felt her arm trembling beneath the plate of her armor.

"Don´t be afraid." Johana whispered into her ear. "Don´t be afraid, my love."

Breathing through thick clenches of slaver, Hjalmar howled. "Daemons! What is the source of your amusement?!"

Rising above them all, dancing with claws spread wide, a Daemon Prince steeped forth and stared down at the old wolf from the fortress above them. Its nacreous blue eyes rested only on Hjalmar for a moment before they drifted the Emma and Johana. When their gazes meet, the Palatine swallowed. A crown of thorns rested atop the Prince´s head, marking its rank and drawing constant streams of blood with every movement of its head. It carried a monumental aura to it. As their eyes meet, the years where stripped of Emma, leaving her as a child crying for her mother.

" _ **Hatred. Lust. Fear. Love.**_ " The Prince said without breaking its gaze with Emma. " _ **The most beautiful of emotions. Soon they will all come. And we will feast on them. We will feast on them under the light of the light of the hidden sun,**_ " A clawed finger pointed to a jet-black orb shimmering in the sky, it edges marked by purple light. " _ **As we partake in the fusion of the Sun and Iron. Accepting her tribune, Iron will ascend and have her wish fulfilled.**_ "

Hjalmar snorted violently through his nostrils. "I despise riddles, daemon. Speak clearly or not at all."

A sense of sorrow and disappointment passed over the Prince´s voice, though the ethereal nature of it brought a tone of arrogance to every word that passed its lips. " _ **To all my kin present, I beg you to wait. To all mortals present, I welcome thee to the union so blessed by our master and lord.**_ "

"Shut your bloody mouth!" Hjalmar bellowed.

" _ **Oh, Sister of Iron,**_ " The Prince went on, unbothered by the old wolf. " _ **Sister of the Sun,**_ " Emma stared around her, she saw the daemons looking at her, jeering her with their gazes. " _ **Prepare to for unity sanctioned by the Prince of Pleasure and Pain.**_ "

"Shut up!" Emma shouted. "Shut up!" She pointed her sword the Daemon Prince. "Do you think we will partake in anyone of your cursed rituals! Do you think we will let feed you any emotions beyond rage?! We do not serve your master, we only serve the God-Emperor! Protector and Master of Mankind! Father and maker of Space Marines and watcher of us all! Don´t you dare to liken any of us to your filth!"

The Prince took its eyes of Emma. It looked to the orb in the sky and smiled as blood ran down the length of its face. It licked its own blood with a tongue that could reach around its own head. " _ **The pain of betrayal…**_ " The Daemon Prince moaned in a voice that trembled with anticipation. The eyes turned back to Emma. " _ **On behalf of all my kin, we thank you for this precious sensation few of us all allowed to supper on.**_ "

"Go back to whatever hole you crawled out of!" Hjalmar hammered his fist against his breastplate. His face showed a volatile rage that threatened to break beyond his control.

The Prince spread all four of its arms wide, sending a flock of fairies with bat like wings forth. They perched on its arms and watched the sisters and the wolves below like carrions.

" _ **Bring her to the altar and prepare her for ascension.**_ " The keeper beckoned them forth with movement so small it was only noticeable for Hjalmar and his brothers. " _ **My kin;**_ " The Prince turned to the tide daemons, fiends and abominations that stood ready before the sisters and the wolves. " _ **Supper on the banquet.**_ "


	84. Chapter 81

The black rose chapter 81

In tales of great victories and triumphs, the Imperium of Man was certain to record every detail, have every name put down on sacred parchment and stored within unbreakable vaults. The tale would be turned into the history. History would ascend to legend. Legend would be muddled to myth. By then, only heroes long lost or dead would remember what transpired. Even then, the human mind is always prone to attach and enforce the emotions to every memory that it holds close.

There was a different kind of battle. The kind were the Imperium did not win. These battles fought a different kind of war. A war to be remembered. A war to recall the forces that gave everything they had or made sure their deaths came at a grave price for the enemy. These where the only loses that stood a chance to survive into retellings for those that came after. All others faded before being forgotten.

* * *

They came with screams and claws. Their numbers could only be guessed, and even then, the answer was enough to break the wills of lesser warriors. To their surprise and amusement, the Sisters of the Hawk and the Wolves of Fenris faced them unflinching. Responding to their advance with roaring bolters, growling chainswords and screaming blades. Their effort was a line of stones on the shore of tsunamic wave. For every daemon that was crippled or cast aside by the sisters and wolves, five took its place. The first line was shattered like ice under flames. The second line faltered soon after. In a matter of minutes, things turned into a slaughter. Though the sisters´ numbers were greater than the wolves, they fell quicker to the unrelenting onslaught of the daemons. The wolves survived longer only by virtue of their bio-enhancements and their instinctual ferocity. The packs quickly lost what little coherency they already had. The leaped into the thickest clutches of daemons they could find. Their fangs grew. Their armor broke as claws sprouted from their fingers and the bulk of their muscles grew. In an orchestra of carnage, the old wolf´s roar managed to rise above it all as his instincts took control over his mind. He charged into the fray, a berserk rage pumping his hearts, blocking all but one impulse.

The fairies descended from the Daemon Prince and flocked towards Emma. Setting her sister behind her, the Palatine pressed the sword´s activation rune. A pulse of blue lighting ran along the edge of the blade, basking her golden hair in an azure glow. Five of them dived for her. Their lips pulled to grins as they descended their leathery wings.

Two strikes and one swing was all it took. Emma returned elegantly to a guard stance, her hands feeling the blade as if it was an extension of her arm. The fairies hissed like snakes. They were weak, spindly things. Like their kin, they thrived on taunts and mockery. They spoke in a tongue Emma could only attribute to some eldritch language. She answered with two shots from her bolt-pistol. Only one shot found its target. The other shoot went astray as the fairy she aimed for pirouetted out of the way.

"Head back to your master." The sword flickered in Emma´s fingers. She raised it to block a strike from the pincer of a daemonette. The steel cried as it bit into the black carapace of the claw. The daemon was not given as second chance to strike. One bolt to the stomach, another to head.

The rest of its kin danced across the river. Their elaborate movements seemed to keep them hovering above on the surface. Their clawed feet left ripples after every step they took.

 _Nine._ Emma counted the bolters she had left in the magazine. She wasn´t allowed to think any further.

The daemonettes leaped through the air and struck like cobras.

She made three shoots with her bolt-pistol. One blew the head of a daemonette clean off. The other tore a thick chunk of one stomach. The last shoot was a stray shoot. There was no time to holster the pistol. She let it slip from her hand and grasped the sword with both hands to catch the incoming claw. Despite the daemon´s slender frame, the strike was hard. But strength was only one small aspect of duels. The pincer traced it´s edge along the blade. Sparks sprayed from the sword as the Palatine took one step to the side and one stride forward.

The daemonette raised its other claw to guard but like everything else that the daemons did the movement was overelaborate and predictable. The point of Emma´s sword pierced the daemon´s chest. A single yank, and the daemon´s split to the head.

Another claw came. It moved in a blur and aimed for her side. The tip of the pincer touched the ceremaite and created a spiderweb of cracks before touching her skin. Her eyes blinked, and the sword turned in her hand. They opened, and the blade caught the claw between its pincers. The claw was blocked, but the point was still in her flesh. Emma grasped the blade with both hands and leaned forward. The force of her push combined with the weight of her body and armor pushed the daemon back. The claw was quickly pushed out of the wound. She raised her sword hand and separated the pincer from its socket. The daemon shrieked, and Emma silenced it by burying her blade in its throat.

Two more came for her. One of them was wounded by the bolt that hit its stomach though it showed no care for its injury. They came for her in a dance between two. Their movements where fluid, carrying across their daemon´s arrogance and pride. Emma responded in kind and danced around with no partner but for her sword. The daemons thrusted forth with their claws. Emma dashed to the side, her sword raised above their claws. The screaming blade separated their heads from their shoulders.

A daemonette waved its claw above its head, signaling for its kin to cease their attack on the Palatine.

" _ **Fear not, Sister. Your death is not ours to bring.**_ "

Emma panted. The daemons stood gathered on the water. Out of her reach, teasing her with dances that send ripples across the blood.

" _ **Though, we have trouble restraining our appetite.**_ "

Emma frowned and raised her sword to them.

The daemonettes laughed. They laughed in a hundred voices that streamed through the throats like drops of water in a river, yet to Emma´s hears, one voice rang higher than any other.

" _ **Look around you, Palatine, and see your sisters fall. Look around you and see the wolves succumb to the beasts that dwell inside them.**_ " A venomous smirk grew on the daemon´s worm-like lips. " _ **Look behind you, and witness you sister of Iron.**_ " A slim, clawed finger pointed past Emma.

She spat a mouthful of blood. "I have had enough of your lies."

" _ **Lies are such delicious things. You´re denial will only make the truth all the sweeter for us.**_ "

"Shut your _mouths_!" She was half tempted to throw her sword at them.

"Emma…"

A finger made of ice traveled up the Palatine´s back. A hand grasped her neck as she turned. When Johana came into view, the hand squeezed.

She was at least two meters above the ground. The fairies had lifted her by the arms, displaying her naked body above them all. Her brown eyes looked down at Emma with not a single show of worry or concern. The lips that just kissed Emma, still dripping with blood from the river, smiled. "Do not worry, my love. I will return."

Emma leaped hopelessly into the air. Her open hand was so far below Johana that the daemons laughed mockingly at the sight. The fairies ascended as if they weren´t lifting anything. When the Palatine hit the ground, they had almost reached the daemon prince still watching from the fortress. Emma stared in horror as the Prince gently grasped Johana in its arms and carried her off.

" _ **Do you see? Do you see what will happened?**_ "

The Palatine looked around her. She watched the being butchering. She watched the unilateral slaughter. She watched the feast of the daemons. The feast of the most inhuman things she could imagine.

 _Is this my punishment? Is this reckoning for my sins? For all my lies?_ She staggered but didn´t fall. Something was beneath her feet. She looked and found the wolf-skin cloak. Lifting it up, soaked in blood, Emma attached it to her armor and put the wolf´s head on her shoulder.

" _ **Still blind. Still not willing.**_ " The daemonette walked slowly forward. In a flash of movement, the daemon leaped quicker than Emma anticipated. The clawed feet set down before her, the tips of the claws touching the skin on her cheeks. Showing its prowess, and mocking the limitations of the Palatine, the daemon only cut her skin with a shallow cut. Barely enough to draw blood.

Emma made no such restrictions. She swung her sword, aiming to cut the daemon in two. The blade touched nothing but air.

Grinning, the daemon danced around her. The steps it made were slow and measured, but Emma knew the deceitful nature of its kind. She followed the daemon with the tip of her sword pointing at its head.

The daemon laughed in a voice that portrayed a virulent sincerity, like a false lover mussing at the joke of their victim. " _ **You struggle. You fight. You truly do not surrender. Even when a fate that makes death seem like a release is staring straight into your eyes.**_ "

Emma didn´t say anything in response. The only answer she was willing to give the daemon was the taste of a blade screaming with the shrieks of a thousand terrified birds.

A warm smile grew on the daemon´s lips. This was no smile infused with the pernicious venom. This smile was borne the mark of the sweetest thins ever imagined. The daemon paused in its performance and gazed up to the orb in the sky above. It nodded, as if accepting a command. " _ **Take her.**_ "

Daemonettes rose from the blood. They bore no claws like their kin, rather these daemons held whips in their slender hands. Emma saw only five rise in front of her, but when she looked over her shoulder, she found a dozen more.

" _ **Taker her.**_ " The daemonette repeated the command.

The daemons lashed out with their whips. Rather than cracking in the air, they wrapped around Emma´s arms and legs. Thorns attached themselves to the armor. She tried ripping one whip of with her arm, only to have a whip snap around her wrist, the thorns tearing through the thinner fiberbundles and cut into her skin. Every muscle in her body tensed as she fought to resist the daemons pulling.

The daemonette that stood before her flicked one of its claws, and the Palatine´s arms stretched to the point that they threatened to break. She stood immobile before the daemons.

" _ **Prepare her.**_ "

Hands that Emma couldn´t see touched her. She winced as she felt them moving around her body, caressing her breasts and the inside of her thighs. She couldn´t tell how they touched her, but she knew when they stopped She knew, because the hands grasped the joints and plates of her armor and started pealing it off.

* * *

She floated beneath the surface. She sank below the waves. The light was slowly fading from her sight. No air filled her body, but she felt no desire to breathe. Her eyes closed, and she saw the wolves and her sisters. She saw them fighting. She saw them bleeding. Each life a little flame that floated to the surface to be carried away by fairies to their god, master and creator. Each death passed through her, piercing her body. Each flame soothing her pain, returning her strength and pushing it beyond.

 _Is this what it feels like? Is this what it feels to ascend?_

Johana´s eyes opened, and a crystalized star blinked at her from the void below. Inside the crystal, crowned by sun-kissed hair, Emma looked up at her.

 _My Palatine, my love. Emma._ Johana reached forward. She sank quicker with each death. Though the star was but the size of a pupil in distant eyes, it was becoming slowly larger. _We will be completed. We will perform union._

* * *

His shield was cracked. The hand holding it broken by a strike he made towards a fiend of the Prince of Pleasure. It was a massive beast, standing high above Hjalmar, but he brought it low by pummeling its head in with series of hammering strikes with his shield. His senses were so blinded by fury, he struggled to remember why he simply didn´t just use his axe, until he looked down at his hand recalled that the weapon was long gone. How many daemons had he butchered before the weapon was finally lost? _Not enough._ The old wolf snarled with slaver dripping of his teeth.

"Brothers!" He raised his broken shield only to be meet with a terrifying silence. "Sisters?!" Hjalmar looked around him, and no one answered. "Gunwoll! Rangor! Everi!"

Finally, an answer came. " _Captain…_ " Hjalmar knew the voice, but the word was mangled by something that made the hardened black carapace under Hjalmar´s skin transform into a layer of harsh frost.

"Tor…"

The name was a brutal parody of the thing stood before him. His bald head was overgrown by wild fur, his nose pushed forward has his skull had grown painfully outwards. His armor gone in the parts where it wasn´t broken. Beneath his thickened brows, a pair of beady, yellow eyes glared towards their brother with a ferocious hunger.

"Brother…" Hjalmar pleaded hopelessly.

Tor charged towards his brother-captain like an animal. His hand grown into a furred paw with knife like claws, his augmented hand still clutching his chainsword. Barely a meter before his captain, Tor leaped.

Hjalmar caught his brother in his arms. He held him close as they tumbled into the blood-soaked ground. Tor squirmed and tried to wrench himself free of his captain´s grip. His extended jaw snapped mere centimeters from Hjalmar´s nose.

 _This is not what I promised. This is not what I promised._ His pushed tears out from his eyes and crushed his brother´s spine by pulling his arms into his chest. Tor gasped as the air was pushed out of him. The wolf who had succumbed sank softly down to his brother-captain´s chest.

Hjalmar let his brother slide of his chest. His vision was blurred but his ears and nose told him revealed everything to him. He smelled the blood, the guts. He heard the daemons laughing manically. He heard screams of the few still clinging to life. The old wolf opened his eyes and saw the daemons. He saw their performance and craft. He saw them meticulously pick the sisters apart, stringing up limbs and peeling away skin to create the most hideous displays of excess they could imagine. He saw it and roared. His hand grasped a chainsword. He had no idea when he took it, and he didn´t care.

" _Bastards…._ " He muttered the word. " _Bastards. BASTARDS!_ "

The daemons watched the old wolf as if they were watching one writhed with delusion scream. They laughed as if he was a fool dancing desperately dancing before a bored court. A Herald stepped forth. The daemon had little distinct from its kin, apart from a necklace of gems colored crimson with streaks of cream white flowing through them.

" _ **Wolf of Fenris.**_ " The Herald said.

Hjalmar bared his fangs. His teeth trembled with the urge to snap at the air. His finger pushed the trigger to the chainsword and the weapon´s teeth were sent to a blur.

" _ **Behold.**_ " Hjalmar expected the Herald to gesture towards the things they had done with his brothers and the sisters. He expected that the Herald would want to brag about its craft. He expected to be angered and revolted. What he saw made his jaw sink and his hand open.

" _ **Behold, Wolf of Fenris, and be honored.**_ "

Emma hung in the air above the deamons, suspended by slithering, thorn covered limbs that wrapped around her naked skin and clipped into her flesh. She was silent, and her eyes were closed, as if she was dreaming. Hjalmar could hear her heart beating softly beneath her exposed ribcage.

His hand snapped around the chainsword and the blade was woken anew. He started running. His hearts finding their rhythm as his boots hammered faster and faster through the sea of blood.

" _ **Now, now.**_ " The Herald said.

Hands, clawed, took Hjalmar´s arms and legs. They cut through his armor and bit into his flesh. Boiling blood seeped from the cuts. Even with muscles and tendons torn, Hjalmar moved slowly forward.

" _ **It is not your place, wolf.**_ " The Herald steeped aside, presenting another being.

Blanked in dull light, it looked like nothing more than a round shape. Arms and legs pulled in close, its true form was only revealed when its wings spread. Coated in a shimmering light, the wings borrowed their shape from butterflies but brought no one of the beauty with them, it had been replaced with a mixture of terrifying colors and mismatched, leering eyes that looked at the wolf before he could see her face. It was once female, that much Hjalmar could determine from just looking at it. The black hair on her crown glimmered like silver as she slowly raised her head.

" _ **Step forth,**_ " The Herald beckoned." _ **Sister of Iron and claim your price.**_ "

"J…" Hjalmar could only think of one. "Johana?"

Her eyes opened and derision filled eyes that he remembered as brown. She extended an arm overgrown with jagged scales. A hand with five white claws blossomed like a flower and made the slightest of gesture with the tips of its fingers.

Responding to the command, the tendrils that suspended Emma began to move. Unconscious, they put her down before Johana´s arm with grace that presented itself as gentle, but Hjalmar saw every cut they made on her skin. Once in her grasp, Johana wrapped her arm around Emma and grasped one of her breasts with claws that punctured the skin. The other hand went between her legs.

His fangs ached in rage. He jaws began to snap the air in front of him. Biting at nothing. It was only when the old wolf took a step back that he could pull his arm out in front of his chest. His fangs bit into the arms that held his arms. The taste of what he could only phantom was their blood poured over his tongue. Bones cracked and broke as he pulled his jaw to a close. Not waiting for the daemons to react, Hjalmar bit down again, freeing his arm further until he was able to move it freely. The chainsword chewed through the flesh of the other arms. Combining his superhuman strength with the sword´s whirling teeth, Hjalmar managed to free himself in a matter of seconds. He took no pause. The old wolf charged. His hearts blasting painfully in his chest, blood staining his armor and coating thick through his beard. He tried to shout but was only able to produce a blood foaming roar.

" _ **Begone wolf.**_ "

Jaws snapped around Hjalmar´s legs. He didn´t see what bit him, he only knew it was massive because he could feel teeth the size of his fists crushing his armor and cutting into his flesh. There was no pain, for he felt none. There was only a cold sensation as the serrated teeth cut through the muscle and started crushing the bones. Turning the sword in his hand and crushing the handle in his fist, Hjalmar pushed the chainsword into the flesh of the warp-spawn that had held him in its vice-like grip. Blood sprayed as the engine growled, but the grip only seemed to grow stronger. He felt bones being crushed. Jerking the old wolf in its maw, the daemon shook Hjalmar as if he was prey still struggling in the jaws of a predator. The old wolf screamed as the daemon rose from the ground and spun around with him still trapped between its teeth. Hjalmar stabbed furiously as the daemon pulled him away.

* * *

"Johana?" Emma woke by the feeling of sharp talons clutching her breast. She winced before opening her eyes, feeling the points puncturing her skin. The face that meet her was hidden behind a vail of black hair that spilled down in sheet of silvery oil. She could hardly recognize what was hiding beneath. The eyes that stared down at her were not the warm, brown colors she remembered. They were icy blue, bone white, ocean green, royally purple and more all at once. Yet she knew that face. She tried to move her hand to touch her but was meet with a sharp sting of pain as the tentacles tipped by knifes cut into her arm whenever she tried to move them. She tried moving her other limbs and found them ensnared in the same way as her arm. The hand that clutched her breast flexed, cutting deeper into her skin. Horrified, Emma discovered where the hand came from. Panting in panic, she felt the other moving along the inside of her thigh.

"Johana…" Emma whimpered. "What are you…"

Her words were gagged by Johana kissing her. A tongue so thick she struggled to breath reached down Emma´s throat. Blood running down the length of her arms soon blended with warm tears dripping of Emma´s checks as a finger made of cold metal entered her. She closed her eyes when she felt more pushing their way through. Once all within her, they soon started thrusting up and down as their edges drew a fresh stream of blood from her. They burned like a glowing scolding iron within her. She wished for all to be a bad dream. That she would wake from it and find herself somewhere far away, but when she closed her eyes, the bell still rang.

* * *

She woke in a shallow ocean of blood. Rising slowly, she felt her head pounding with pain. Staring into her reflection in the crimson, she barely even knew her own face. It did not matter. She looked around her, looking for what she was promised but found nothing.

"Emma?" She called but received no answer beyond the thick, watery dripples of blood dripping of her skin. "Emma! Where are you!?"

" _Steep forward._ " It was Emma´s voice.

Eagerly obeying the command, Johana climbed to her feet. The pounding behind her head growing worse as she rose.

" _Step forward and claim your reward._ " A bright light hovering above sunk slowly down, adopting the silhouette of Emma. " _Johana…_ "

Her head hammered as if it was about to crack open from the inside. It hurt, but she didn´t care. She looked at Emma, and the pain was little more than a distant, bitter shill. She fell into Emma´s arms and clutched her to her chest. She closed her eyes and enjoyed the scent of her hair.

" _Open your eyes._ "

Acting more on a momentary impulse than anything else, Johana´s eyes opened softly and widened until they seemed ready to pop out of her head. The being of light she had grasped was gone. Before her eyes was Emma, suspended far above her by barbed chains wrapped around her arms. Her hair, once golden and bright in its color was eviscerated and torn of her head. Blood dripped from the gashes caused by the thorns and sharp cuts made between her legs.

" _Emma_!" Johana cried and the pain in her head came at her like a warlord attacking an unguarded fortress. Despite the pain, she did not take her eyes of her sister. "My love…" She reached hopelessly for her. "Who did this to you?"

" _ **You are doing it.**_ " A voice inside her head echoed through the blood-soaked abyss. " _ **This is your doing.**_ "

The fog that had clouded her mind for what she felt like months was blown away by the voice´s words. She fell to her knees and reached towards Emma. "My sister… my palatine… my love… what have I done?" She howled, clinging to some vain hope that it was all a horrible nightmare. "God-Emperor, what have I _done_?!"

" _ **There is still more.**_ "

Like lighting striking from a storm cloud she had seen but never noticed, she looked at her hands. Horror grasped her. She felt Emma´s hair in her hand. She felt her mouth on her lips. She felt her hand inside of her.

"No, no, no, no, no!" Her entire body trembled and shivered. She wanted to claw her eyes out of her skull so that she might by blinded, but she didn´t want to touch herself with these hands. "I didn´t want this! I didn´t want any of this!" She cried with tears streaking her face.

" _ **You sought her. You tamed her. You have her. Now kill her.**_ "

The hands that clutched Emma let go. They wrapped around a weapon. A weapon whose haft ran the length of her body. A weapon whose haft dug into her palms and drowned them in thick crimson.

" _ **Take your scythe crafted from the bones of your sisters and open her up. Put it between her legs and let it taste her flesh before it claims her life. Do it.**_ "

"No! _No_!"

" _ **Do it now!**_ " The voice vexed. The pain in her head intensified. " _ **Submit to your master!**_ " The scythe was pulled. She could feel her arms moving.

" _No, no! Stop it!_ "

The scythe swung.


	85. Chapter 82

The black rose chapter 82

He swam through a great ocean, its currents a feverish miasma of color and noise, yet his aim was clear. It was bright and dark. Cold and warm. Silent and screaming. He felt every change to the stream on his skin, inside his divinely made muscles and in his sacred hearts. With every beat, the pulse was sensed by patrolling predator. Every one of them rakishly hungry. He recalled first seeing one of these predators, observing its glare and hunger. He felt neither fear nor terror staring into its eyes. Only sorrow for his son. Now he pay them no mind. No predator was bold enough to hunt prey that could destroy them with the simplest thought.

There was neither surface or bottom in sight. He turned, spread his arms wide and let himself be carried by the current. One of countless and innumerable. It would try to sway his path, but it had no chance of escaping his senses.

He extended his Will.

 _ **You know my path.**_ He spoke without moving his lips. _**You know my aim. Will you make me deviate?**_ He asked with the softness of a father addressing his child. He eased his Will and waited.

The current turned, and he moved again.

 _Imperium spanning the galaxy. Untold wars. Endless deaths. Humanity as accomplished so little. They still remain as blind to the truth as the ones that came before._

He could sense thousands upon billions of them. Each a drop in the stream that carried him. They sang to him. Songs of passion, songs of woe, songs of fury, songs of harmony, songs of decay and songs of change. Each song a simple yet small tune, like a flame flickering on a candle. When joined by the thousands upon billions, they formed great orchestras without unity. To those inhabiting other planes, they would last some arbitrary amount of time before they would end. To him, they all lasted a lifetime. They would stop without ending. They would start without beginning. He listened to every single one. He found the ones that stopped before they could begin to bring him sorrow.

 _Creation without sensation is truly the most tragic of existence._

He remembered one song. It grew inside another, like they all did at first. He listened to the beautiful melody though he knew it would never start.

The song faded, and he never heard the tune again.

 _The death of a million is but number to most. The single death is a catastrophe to few. Hearing the song of the million almost always hides the few bright._

The song had returned though in a different form. Before the Hawk had another song in its chest, now there was only one. Yet it was not alone. The Hawk was singing but the Wolf was howling at its side as the Serpent slithered behind it. He hated what he had to do. He hated that the Serpent had once been adorned with feathers of white silver and it would soar above the rest. He hated that he had to pluck the feathers of it so it would crash.

 _I had to stop what could not be hidden. The song will never persevere. It will always change but it must be saved._

The current slowed.

He opened his eyes and stared forward. Tears streaked in gold started rolling across his cheeks. He could not reach, he could not touch. He sank deeper, a dark veil wrapped around him. He pulled his arms close to his chest and looked down at the Hawk sinking out of his reach. The Serpent wrapped around it, stopping it from spread its wings.

 _I could have stopped it. But I did not, too much would have been lost. So strong. So soft. So certain. And still blinded by the light. The truth will only seen once her sight is drowned in darkness._


	86. Chapter 83

The black rose chapter 83

 _Truly there is no sweeter poison than love._ Serena laughed to herself as she took another sip of wine. She was seated in the throne reserved for the head of her family. A seat still officially held by her mother. _Though I wonder what he finds sweeter? The words I whisper into his ear or what I have between my legs. Then again, his eyes always linger on my hair whenever I let it lose._ A giggle pushed past her rose red lips. _Now he sits gently in my hand while the heir to every other noble house in this city is being held hostage in the ship belonging to the traitorous inquisitor, a ship that will do well not to be demolished. My, how I wonder for how long it will be before those hostages run out their usage and are declared heretics and trailed as such._

Things had fallen into a good place for Lady Blois. She had the young general and the Inquisitor was brutally butchered by the Sisters of the Wings. The timing could not be better, the wolves had left with the Palatine of the Talons along with half their company. Now the Mechanicum had struck their deals with the Supreme Judge, promising the activation of the ancient god-machines hidden on the forgeworld. They just needed the minerals specifically located on soil owned by the Blois family.

Swirling the wine of deep crimson in a goblet of silver, she smiled while taking a bite of an exotic fruit cultivated in her mother´s personal harvest cubes. The sweet juices dripped from her mouth and sent shivers through her body.

"My lady." The serf holding the plate of fruit said.

"What is it?"

"The emissaries from the Capital have arrived along with the Arch-Magos of Antoxi." The serf said, holding his voice withdrawn. "Your mother wishes to meet them here in the throne room."

"I know." Serena did not move from her seat.

"My lady," The serf pushed, as little as he dared. "Your mother will want to have her seat in the throne."

"She will but she won´t." Serena said.

The serf swallowed.

"Tell my mother to meet me here, along with the emissaries and the Arch-Magos. I will take care of the rest."

"Very well, my lady." They took a bow before leaving. Her mother returned a few minutes later. She stormed alone through the entrance, hiding all her emotions behind courteous manners and choice words.

"Serena, darling," Her mother began. She always called Serena darling when she was furious with her. "I am about to meet with some very important officials from the Capital. Would you please step of my throne so I can meet them?"

Serena drank another sip of her wine as if one of hundreds disposable serfs where asking her to step of the throne.

"Serena." The curtesy was stripped from her mother´s voice though she retained the same mannerisms and movements that she had taught Serena for several years. "The officials will be here in just a few minutes. Step down from my throne."

 _Mother was always far more dull-witted than she liked to believe, or could ever know. Father was always had more cunning than her. I should have been more thankful for the lessons he taught me._ "Once I finish my wine." Serena said, prodding her mother´s mood further.

"Step down now."

Serena gave her mother a coy stare. She extended the hand holding the goblet and poured its contents out over the polished floor. Once empty she let the goblet slip from her hand, the silver cup hitting the floor with a loud clang that echoed through the throne-room of House Blois.

"It appears that I am finished." Serena said as she climbed down the throne careful not to step into the puddle of spilled wine. "You may take your seat, mother."

Visible frustrated, though only in ways that Serena could spot, Lady Blois pulled up her dress and tried stepping around the wine. The edge of her sugar-white dress was accidently touched by the crimson on more than a few occasions. She didn´t notice it herself but Serena saw it like warm blood on virgin snow.

The gates to throne-room parted and the officials stepped through. A scribe-servitor was the first to catch Serena´s eyes. It´s outgrown and artificially bulked frame casted a thick shadow that made it big enough to hide the rest of the martials in it. Beside it walked a martial of some kind, his chest decorated with medals, two bodyguards headed along his sides. A hunched tech-priest plodded quietly forwardly next to the servitor scribe.

"Supreme Judge Conrad." Her mother addressed the martial. Serena recognized the name immediately and took a keen interest in him. "Arch-Magos." Her mother continued, courteously bowing before them after pronouncing their names. "I wish to welcome you to the throne-room of House Blois. It is my great honor to receive you within my walls."

"Lady Seras Blois." Conrad responded with her mother´s full name. He made no bow nor nod after pronouncing her name. instead his black eyes ended up on Serena.

Acting on the lessons her mother forced upon her, Serena performed an elegant bow to the Supreme Judge. "Serena Blois." She said, sensing the imminent question. "Daughter of Seras Blois and Rouborto Blois."

"I knew who you are, lady Blois." Conrad said, showing little regard for her as he quickly shifted his attention to Seras. "Lady Blois. We have come to acquire the rights to your land for excavation."

"For activating the Titans." Serena said.

Conrad frowned. "Don´t tell me information that I already know, girl."

Serena took a small step back, though she remained by the side of her mother´s throne. Her pride had been mildly scorned by the Supreme Judge´s reaction. She never enjoyed having someone reject her but she took the chance to make a note of what Conrad said and why he said it.

"Will you allow us to enter these premises?" Conrad asked. The question was as rhetorical as it was formal.

"You will." Seras said. "But not without a price for excavating your lands."

The folds in Conrad´s face deepened as his frown sank. "Might I remind you that you were only spared in the war because you made a deal with the Sisters of the Hawk? A deal I can tear down with a simple command to my scribes."

 _There goes my mother again._ Serena thought. _She will not allow herself to be insulted in her great plan like this._

"A deal that is still held by holding the children of every noble house in this city hostage." Seras softened tone broke. "Are you going to break your end of the barging by executing those children?"

"I could have your daughter executed right where she stands for facing me with a stained dress and spilled wine." Conrad spoke the words with a cold harshness. "The forces of Chaos are still wanting for your world and no one can tell when or even if the Great Gash can be closed." Conrad started a lengthy monologue as he walked in a circle with his hands gripped behind his back.

Serena remained unmoved though it was only by effort. A strange terror that she couldn´t describe gripped her when Conrad made his threat. A terror that grew beyond the simple fear of losing her life.

"Supreme Judge, I only have a simple request." Seras started but was interrupted by the Conrad raising his hand.

"Seras Blois." Conrad stated with a dry, detached voice. "I have sentenced you to death. Your execution will be immediate." The statement was written down by the scribe servitor. Conrad turned to his bodyguard. "Carry out the sentence."

"My lord-" Seras pleaded but was stopped by the sudden crack of a bolt-gun. The explosive tipped projectile hit her head and splattered chunks of gore and brains across the wine-stained marble floor. Seras´ headless body sat silently into the throne, only stopping from sliding of because of her arms catching its rests.

Serena was left silent by the sight. The swift brutality of it combined with the thick viscera dripping of her arms had left her pale with shock but once she was able to process what had happened she was ready to laugh hysterically at the brutally effective result of her actions.

"I am the ruler of House Blois." She said between wheezing breaths.

"The line of succession will fall to you, yes." Conrad admitted. "I do hope you will not follow your mother´s errors."

Serena wiped some splatters of blood from her face with a white handkerchief. With her face hidden behind the cloth, she grinned. "Forgive me reaction, Supreme Judge." She said once she had removed the handkerchief. "I was stunned by what my mother had committed. I can assure you that my rule over House Blois will be a rule of redemption for the wrong my family has wrought. I will cleanse your name so that my children will inherit a name of power that may carry proudly forward in the Emperor´s holy name." She looked at Conrad and saw the skepticism in his eyes. Acting before he had a chance to talk, Serena sought to satisfy him. "My first action is my unconditional surrender of the ground the Mechanicus desires for awakening the Titans."

"This will please the Arch-Magos." Said the tech-priest, its speech so distorted by the vox-producer welded to its face. If there was anything on it that could be considered eyes, they were hidden or divided among the thousands of panels that stuck out of the crimson robe that covered the mixture of machines and flesh that was the material that made up its body. Serena was so distracted by the extent of the tech-priest´s augmentations that she didn´t look at Conrad´s still stern face.

"But it does not satisfy me." Conrad said. His voice broke through like the caw of a crow in a hollow tomb. "I have seen many great houses promising redemption and retribution only to slip into the same acts of heresy they pledged to be rid of."

"Supreme Judge," Serena took a bow. "I am still a young woman. I have much to learn and much to master. My mother tried to have me corrupted by an insatiable greed. She tried teaching me of too best trick others to get what I want. I was too naïve to see the lies and falsehoods she was feeding me. But I am still young. Now that I have seen the errors of my ways, I am ready to learn and redeem."

"I also know that you had personal relations with the Palatine of the Talons before disappearing for a time." Conrad said. "It was only sometime after the murder of our holy Cardinal and Governor that you somehow made your way back here." The folds in the Judge´s skin shifted. "Tell me, what happened between your departure from the Palatine of the Talons before your return here?"

Serena looked at Conrad, his black eyes cold with judgement. He stood firm and tall yet his frame struggled to keep him upright. The game that he was playing was no coy delusion to her. Serena saw the trial she was on and started sharing the facts that suited her position.

"The Inquisitor forced me into his servitude." Serena let her lips sink while recalling the memory. "He tore me from the Palatine of the Talons and told me to do his deeds or he would throw me to the wolves."

Looking through teared eyes, she could see Conrad´s interest rise.

"What did the Inquisitor tell you to do?" Conrad asked. "What was his plan?"

 _Better say what he wants to hear._ Serena thought. She knew well enough that the Inquisitor had some kind of plan to foil the Cardinal´s plan to burn the entire Capital. But she wasn´t sure what prompted the Cardinal to do that, nor was she certain what the Inquisitor´s ultimate agenda was. _If my words don´t match his assumptions, or worse contradict them…._

"Supreme Judge," She began. "The Inquisitor told me nothing of his reasons. He only told me to write messages to my friends here. Forgive me, I do not know what he wanted with them."

"Where did he send you?" Conrad voice was unmoved by Serena´s façade. "Do you have any of these messages left?"

Serena buried her face in her hands. "My lord, I was blindfolded through the entire journey. I did not see what was happening until he locked me in a cell where I was sent messages that I was told to send. I don´t know where I was or for how long I was in there." She pulled down her dress at the collar to expose a wound she was given when she was struck by her mother. "I tried to escape but I failed. They punished me severely for trying."

"Who was this friend of yours that you sent these messages to?" Conrad spoke the word friend as if the concept of Serena having a friend was something alien to him.

Resting her eyes in her palm to hide the flash of a grin, Serena puzzled through the rival families in this city that she knew of. The biggest challenge she faced was trying to figure out just one family she wanted to draw the Judge´s wrath towards. She was disappointed to realize she was best of telling him the truth of who she sent the messages to. If there were any receptions of them, she could still claim to have been given orders.

"Reana of House Tyrrol. She was the one who I sent the messages to." _A dimwitted girl who´s likely to get herself killed by tripping on a slippery pipe._

"Very well." Conrad turned and started walking towards the door.

"Supreme Judge." Serena stopped him just before they could reach the gate. "I have known Reana since I was a little girl. Please don´t judge her for what I was forced to do."

"Casting judgement is my duty." Conrad said, coldly. "I will carry it out regardless of who is being subjected."

They left her alone in the throne room. Alone with the corpse of her mother. Without a second thought, Serena snapped her fingers, summing serfs to remove the corpse and wash her off. She spent the rest of the day smiling whenever no one was looking and hiding her face with sobs whenever someone did.

Night came too quick for her to savor what she had found. Regardless, she acted her part and prepared herself for sleep just a few hours after she was appointed head of House Blois.

The young general waited for her in the room like she used to wait for him in the Capital. Though he could not speak anymore, he wrapped his arms around her the moment she stepped through the door. He tore at the fabric her dress and she kissed his neck. He was on top of her just a few moments later. It lasted longer than it used to, though it was still not enough for Serena to savor it. Corvey tumbled of her and Serena walked naked to the bed. With a sharp smirk on her lips, Lady Blois drifted of to sleep as the young general groped her breasts from behind.

In the morning, Serena wasn´t woke by the sun hitting her eyes, nor the ting of a serf entering the room. She was woken by her stomach rebelling and spilling its content over the floor.

"What in the…?" Serena asked before she threw up again.


	87. Chapter 84

The black rose chapter 84

Blood filled the old wolf´s mouth. It flowed thick down his nostrils. The taste and smell of cold iron blanketed his sense. His hands coiled into fists, but they only pushed away thick gore. He felt himself slowly sinking. Fury jolted through his muscles, pulling his arms into a crude stroking motion, propelling him upwards. Gene-forged eyes stared into the void of harsh crimson, gathering and amplifying what little light they could gather. Staring upwards, he saw a muted light. Like a sun concealed by the clouds of a thick storm. He swam towards it. His lungs screamed for air. He could fell them trying to force him to draw a breath. To make him full his lungs with blood.

His hand broke through the surface and smacked down again. His other hand breached, this time it reached to his elbow. His head came up with a splash and gore spraying from his mouth. The air he breathed was something far fouler than he remembered. He sank down again. Splashing with his arms, Hjalmar kept himself above the surface and swam to the nearest shore. When his hand touched the solid ground beneath the blanket of blood and guts, the old wolf collapsed. He gasped for air and unwillingly rested his head next to the head of a Sisters of the Hawk. It had been separated from the body with a clean cut, leaving an expression of terror that stared at Hjalmar with collapsed eyes. The sight was fuel on his fury. He pulled himself out of the river and looked to the dim sky above.

" _Aaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhh!_ " He roared the air out of his lungs and sank with the silence that followed.

He looked at what was left of his legs. Two bloody stubs cut of above the knees. Peering out of the still throbbing flesh, yellow bone protruded. He could still feel his legs, he could feel his hand on his knee when he reached forward and put his hand where it should be, he could feel his muscles tensing as he tried to pull his foot back. He could feel them, but he could not see them nor touch them.

He timbered and crashed into the ground. His arms fell limbless to his sides. He laid still, closed his eyes and mouth and listened the quiet thumbing of his hearts. He heard the wind in his ears, harsh yet a gently stroke on his skin. _In death, duty ends._

A groan came behind him.

Hjalmar jerked up. He fumbled as he tried to clumsily stand up. He crawled forward on with his arms instead. He knew he should have perked his ears. He should listen to make sure what he heard was no phantom of his mind, but he didn´t care. He dragged himself up the hill before him. Once above the final ridge, Hjalmar found the source of the sound. Naked, golden hair soaked in blood, she laid face down in the gore.

"Emma!" Hjalmar bellowed as he hurried up to her. He could see her ribcage moving from breaths. He could see that he was alive, but she was far from unhurt. With gentle strength, Hjalmar turned her over and put his hand over the still bleeding stump on her shoulder.

"Emma…" His voice was as close as it could get to a whisper.

A drained, lifeless face rested on his arm.

Acting quickly, the old wolf reached for his belt and too his relief he found what he wanted. Spraying her wound with a fiber-seal, he stopped the bleeding but could do little for the numerous cuts on her arms, chest and thighs.

He pulled her in close. He rocked back and forth with Emma her head resting on his shoulder. _She´s lost an arm. And blood. A lot of blood. We need to get back to the ship._

Holding her with one arm, dragging himself forward with the other, Hjalmar pulled over across the remains of the massacre. He crawled through over the intestines of his brothers. He crawled through the bones of Emma´s sisters. What wasn´t spread over the ground was used for decorations of horrible statues and instruments. They seemed left there just as a taunt for him, something they could further mock him with at their return. He heaved every breath and felt the world whirl beneath his broken legs. Sweat thickened his beard. His cogitator was long broken, but the old wolf knew what was afflicting him.

 _I need mead. I need water._ There was no point in fighting it. He took a piece of meat from the nearest corpse he could find and bit down. In the bitter wind, the flesh was disgustingly cold and the act of eating the flesh of his brothers was only something he had known traitor legions to do, yet nothing could have been sweeter to his drained body. He cried but took another bite and pushed it down his throat.

A terrifying reality hit him, and he wept again. "Emma…" Large tears rolled down his bushy cheeks. "Forgive me." He set her down and tore a thick piece of meat from one his brothers, he could barely look at it. He only needed to know it was still drenched with blood. Tearing of a mouthful with his fangs, he pulled it into smaller pieces that he placed into Emma´s mouth and forced her to swallow by lifting her head. Shame claimed his mind. Eating the cadavers of your own to survive. How much deeper could he sink? How much deeper could he drag take her down with him? He had to remove it. The only thing that mattered was survival.

"Resist."Hjalmar told Emma as he forced another chunk of bloody meat down her throat. "Resist, swallow and survive."

Fresh blood ran down her checks. Two thick rivers of crimson towards the corners of her mouth. Soon they dried and crusted on her motionless face.

Hjalmar ate some more and took select pieces of bloody flesh and put them into his satchels. They smacked wetly as he pushed them inside. Once they were filled, Hjalmar took Emma over his shoulder again and dragged himself further away. Silently and constantly, he begged Emma not to open her eyes.

 _You will redeem yourself._ Hjalmar thought as he put the bone that protruded from his stump to heave them over an edge. _This failure and shame are my own._

He remembered how long it was to the ship. He remembered the time it took down to the minutes. He could only phantom how long it would take them go get back. The steps and hills that where so trivial before where might as well be as tall as the mountains that surrounded them. The already cracked and damaged ceramite on his thighs was eventually worn down, leaving his skin be dragged across the black rock beneath as he crawled forward. A trial of two crimson tails was left in the path of the old wolf. The exhaustion and pain he felt could only be mirrored by the trials he had gone through centuries ago to become one of the Vlka Fenryka. He did them then, when he was still young. When he his body lacked augmentation. Surely, he could do it again.

 _I had two more legs back then._ Hjalmar though bitterly. He paused to eat again. The meat he ate was drier than he recalled. Reaching down he realized that the blood was dripping down the bag and spilling down into the flesh below.

"A thousand thundering seadevils." He cursed as he fed none of the wetter pieces of flesh to Emma. The slithering meat almost caused to her to cough it back up the moment he closed her mouth but Hjalmar didn´t let her open her mouth. He held his massive hand beneath her jaw and lifted her head until she swallowed it out of reflex.

He continued to crawl. The sun had set long ago but he kept crawling through the darkness, fearing that the daemons might return to finish their work on them. If they attacked now…. His jaws and fists might deliver some terrible bites and strikes but would be only be a feral beast being toyed with by sadistic masters.

Pulling himself over a hill, Hjalmar fainted if only for a moment. He found himself spread over the ground, panting and heaving for breath as his body begged him to stop. It begged him to give up, to surrender. It had been begging him for hours on end, hounding him, and every time he refused to listen.

In the overwhelming silence of the mountain range, Hjalmar could hear the sound of his tendons snapping under the heaves of his breaths and hammering of his hearts. The pain reminded him of muscles being cut apart, only enforced by the scolding of fresh forged metal. He winced at the pain but refused to listen to his nervous systems pleading to stop.

"Wounds heal," Hjalmar grunted to himself. "And scars remain, but only death is final." He looked at Emma. "You worship the Allfather as a god. He is the father and maker of my father, the Master of Mankind and the righteous ruler of the Galaxy. He sits eternally on the Golden Throne. The traitors to the Imperium worship four gods. They are bastardly wrong." He rested a hand on Emma, like he had done before. "You are half-right. There is only one god, but he demands no worship, only respect. His name is death, and I will not give into his demands."

Defying his torn muscles, Hjalmar dragged himself forward with Emma resting on his shoulder. Surmounting a hill, the old wolf managed saw the end of the mountains and the final stretch to the ship.

In order to make his way down, Hjalmar pulled Emma close to his chest, and let himself slide down by sliding on his back. The machinery on his back was far from having any function any longer. The trip down made sure it could never be used again.

He made his way to the Thunderhawks they had used for planetfall. The ramps had all been pulled up and with no one to pilot them, Hjalmar could only pull himself up to one of the ramps and tear it down through the muscles he had left. With the ramp down, he made sure that Emma was secured to the transport seat before crawling to the pilot seat.

"Winter´s Wrath." Hjalmar spoke through the vox. "Winter´s Wrath, this is Captain Hjalmar, answer."

" _Captain Hjalmar, this is Ormatius of the Machine Cult of Antoxi, what was the result of the mission? Has the STC been retrieved. Where there any losses?_ "

"There´s only two survivors." Hjalmar withheld his wrath, what good would it do him to let his fury loose now? "The STC has been lost."

"Hjalmar…"

Slowly, the old wolf turned to face her. She was gaunt and wrought.

"I can´t move my arm."

Tears rolled into his beard in long fingers. He sobbed as Emma turned to look over at what remained of her arm. She stared silently at the stub for a moment before she screamed.


	88. Chapter 85

The black rose chapter 85

The mornings where always terrible. She spent most of it heaving up whatever she had eaten the night before. And when that was spent, her stomach went on to push up heaves of dark green bile. An army of serfs and medica where constantly at her side to aid her, cleaning up the wretch and providing her with fresh clothes. Despite their efforts, Serena was constantly haunted by the lingering, sour smell of half-digested food.

Corvey was constantly at her side, making sure to hold her hand and looking at her with alarmed eyes. Despite the foul smell of her breath and the vomit on her lips, he would often lean in to kiss her on the check.

"Don´t worry, my love." Serena said. "It is all normal. My mother told to expect these things when I had my first blood. It won´t be long before my stomach will start to grow." _And not long after that, I will have to find some reason for it be growing._

The young general responded with his usual mumbles and gasps that might have been words of comfort and love if he still had a tongue. Acting the ever-carrying suitor, she caressed his face and played with the slowly creeping grey shore on his hair. She put his hand on her stomach and asked with her most tender voice if he could feel anything move.

He replied with warm smile.

They spent the rest of the day together. Corvey lying next to her, his hands clutching her delicate fingers and Serena making plans for the child. She wondered what kind of power could be most well taught for her child to make the bloodlines of House Blois and House Ironfield great and powerful. How could she best tutor it to bring wealth and glory to their house. After hours silently pondering, Serena was struck by sharp apophony.

 _Creating another of myself would only be creating my own fall. What if my child becomes even sharper than me?_ She thought about her mother and she always thought herself smarter than Serena.Her passions were deception and conquest. No one should be allowed to compete with her. And farming it was a fool's strategy.

"My child," Serena whispered so that Corvey wouldn´t hear. "You will not be lectured in arts nor etiquette. You will only know the cold husk of a Titan as you march onto the battlefield and bring glory to House Blois. You will shed blood and bleed, but I will reap the harvest you sow. Once I can come up with some explanation for your existence."

Morning came with a purple sky, though Serena´s biggest surprise was that she didn´t fell sick. She climbed out of her bed and walked up to the nearest window. She thought it some Mechanicus smoke, perhaps some mixture of chems used for gathering materials for the Titans where combining to color the sky in this strange shade. But when her eyes lingered, she felt something altogether different was transforming the sky. She opened the window and felt a presence of power washing through her. A power of pleasure that brought her a moment of such sheer bliss she was enraptured by its power one moment and enraged by the brevity of it the next.

What could be bringing such power? What could possess it? Jealousy took hold of her and made one question was far stronger in her mind, how could she wield it herself?

"My lady," Said one of the serfs as they came into the room. "What are you doing?"

Only when Serena turned to face the maid did she realize that she was standing on the window rail, her foot hanging peerlessly over the edge.

Corvey flew out of the bed and rushed over to pull her in. Serena let herself fall into his arms. She crashed onto the stony, cold floor with him.

"My lady!" The maid rushed up the Serena to check on her stomach and her wellbeing. Corvey held her tight, his arms wrapped around her neck. Serena could notice a fly running up her leg more than either of them.

Her eyes remained fixed on the sight outside the window. Purple flames created an inferno of color in the smoggy sky. Swirling, the ribbons of fire blotted out the sun and flowed into a vortex that sunk upwards at its center. The abyss created at the center was inviting, gentle and utterly hostile. People seeing this phenomenon screamed in absolute horror and gasped in awe at the beauty of it. The moans of orgies mingled with the screams of torture to create a vile cacophony of sound. Those still not succumbing to the allure of what they witnessed ran panicking through the streets. They cried for help only to find themselves assaulted by swarms of fresh addicts.

Serena listened to the sounds of the city and was taken by the strange sound of it all but also unfathomably jealous. How could whatever was hiding in the sky be able to seduce the people by sheer magnitude of its presence? What powers did it possess too be able to perform such displays of power by not even acting? She bit her lip until it broke, but when she tasted the blood, she couldn´t help but feel a sweet release of pain as the air stung the exposed flesh.

Descending slowly out of the abyss, a tear sparkling like a diamond in the swirling light of the purple flames. Bursting, the being sealed within spread its wings wide let the city below her be basked in their light.

 _An angel?_ Serena though. Its wings where bright as those in the tales but there were no feathers adorned them, rather there was a thousand upon a thousand glaring eyes. Every one of them misshapen and mismatched. Every one of them repulsive, yet when Serena stared into the eyes, they gazed back, and she knew that they where good.

The angel floated above the city, arms spread wide the masses bellowed cheered as much as they screamed. Some climbed to highest spired they could find. In some vain hope they stretched outwards, hoping to touch the angel. Others, braver, tossed themselves forward only to dive hopelessly into the kilometer-deep chasms of the hive city.

"Angel," Serena said. "Where did you come from?"

Eyes black as the void and glittering like stars, opened. Serena felt them meet her gaze. Within those eyes she saw the agonizing deaths of wolves and hawks. She saw the wolves fighting and biting with broken teeth and dull gums. She saw the hawks struggling for flight with plucked wings and shattered talons. She saw both of them fight side by side against a tidal sea of teeth and flesh. Their deaths as unavoidable as they were tormenting. She felt their blood running down her throat. The sweet taste of it more nourishing than any fruit she had ever tasted. It was something only angels could conjure and grant. It stopped when the angel closed her eyes and left a thirst in Serena that was not satiated.

" _ **That is where I came from.**_ " The angel´s voice was in her head.

"Please, grant me this power." Serena begged. "Grant me this might."

The angel smiled brightly. " _ **There are hundreds singing their songs for me. There are thousands pleading to my master's cause. They are all humble. They are all good. They are all servants pleading their lives. What are you?**_ "

"I am Serena of House Blois, First Lady of the family and bearer of its future." She put her hands on her stomach to let the angel know she was carrying. "Grant me this power, and I will pledge my child to you and the god that gave you power."

The angel stared at Serena for a long time. A few soft strokes with its wings and the angel was standing in the window before her. Though the angel was no taller than Corvey, Serena felt akin to a child gazing up at a fully-grown adult. Seeing the angel so close felt like standing in before a god. She remained transfixed by awe but also frozen by fear.

The angel stepped elegantly down from the steps and grasped Serena´s face in a hand with fingers likened to sharpen talons that cut through Serena´s skin. The pain she expected did not make her wince, rather it made her gasp. It evoked memories of the fist time she was touched.

" _ **You speak truthfully.**_ " The angel rested its hand on Serena´s stomach. " _ **This time.**_ "

"I do. I do." Serena had closed her eyes, so her mind could be more sharply focused on the sensation of the claws scraping against the bone of her jaw.

" _ **Do not make a liar of yourself and act as my confidant.**_ "

"I will not lie." Serena promised. "I will be your confidant."

" _ **Use this.**_ " The angel placed a metallic box in her hand. " _ **And open your eyes.**_ "

Serena obeyed the angel and found herself back in the bed. Corvey had his arms wrapped around her, though the sheets had become sticky with warm sweet.

Perplexed and still panting, Serena tried rising out of the bed to be stung by a sharp pain at the side of her face. Touching it with her fingers, Serena felt a something warm and wet. Her fingers returned with blood dripping from them. A black box rested next to her. It was mechanical and machine made, with veins of metal spreading across it. When she touched it, it was comfortably warm and silently purring.

Halting her breath, Serena listened to the sounds of the city but could only hear the normal clunking and chugging of engines. She laid back into the bed and looked at the blood that had dripped into her pillow. She put her hand on her stomach and spoke to her child.

"You have a new purpose, little one." She lifted the box. "And I have a seed to plant." __


	89. Chapter 86

The black rose chapter 86

She hadn´t said a word since she stopped screaming. She´d hardly even moved. The crew thought she was sedated when Hjalmar crawled out of the Thunderhawk carrying her on his shoulder. They managed to stop the bleeding from her wounds and stabilize her, but they couldn´t replace the arm she had lost. All augmentations they had where fitted for Astartes. It was with this harsh joke that bit so hard into his mind that Hjalmar almost refused to have his own legs replaced but, in the end, he could only see stupidity in it. He had them attached without any sedatives. The iron felt scolding hot when they attached even though they weren´t heated and once they activated, he felt as if they had strapped two smocking blocks of ice to his bleeding stumps. Yet through the procedure, he remained silent.

"Where is she?" Hjalmar asked once they were done.

The serfs flinched at the sound of his voice. Most seemed afraid to even answer until one brave man stepped forward.

"She is being kept in the containment cells, Captain."

Hjalmar´s brows folded. "Why?"

"It might be better if you just see for yourself, Captain."

The old wolf marched through the halls of _Winter´s Wrath_ until he reached the containment cells at the far center of the ship, making an escape or any attempt at rescue near impossible. Though the ship could house several hundreds of prisoners, they had only been used once before. Using his senses, Hjalmar quickly found the cell with Emma. He hit the codes to the door so violently the keys almost shattered. He opened the door with a rough pull that sent it crashing into the wall with thunderous crack.

"Emma."

She was at the far end of the room. Resting in a corner, dried blood was on her hand. From the way her head rested, looked be asleep. Hjalmar walked towards her and kneeled down to look into her eyes.

"Emma." He repeated but to no response.

Waiting for a few moments, Hjalmar put his hand on her shoulder, and the Palatine leaped to life with sudden shudder. She ran to the other side of the room, pressing her back against the wall like a cornered animal. Her eyes stared at Hjalmar with absolute terror. He tried reaching out to touch her again, certain that it was only the shock that startled her. When Emma pressed herself into the wall, as if desperately trying to push through it, he lowered his hand.

The old wolf answered her gaze of fear by turning his eyes away from her. He buried his face in his palm and felt the tears gather in his hand.

"I´m sorry." He said between sobs. "I´m sorry I brought you here. I´m sorry I allowed this to happened. I´m sorry my shame must mark you as well. I´m sorry for everything." He couldn´t tell for how long the tears kept flowing. They seemed to flow as if the oceans of Fenris where pouring through his eyes.

"I am sorry." Emma wailed behind him. "I am sorry, I am sorry, I am sorry, I am sorry…."

Hjalmar took his hand down turned to meet Emma. His eyes still wept and stung. He sucked for breaths that sounded like thick grunts. He had to gather his emotions and regain control of himself. With tears still running down his beard, he rose to look down at Emma.

"Why did she…" Had he observed any other mortal in this situation, Hjalmar would have been likely to lift them up in the air and force the truth out of them by squeezing it from their lungs. But when he looked down at Emma, fragile and scared, he became stalwartly silent as his head was made a quagmire by the memories of his brothers.

Emma sat on the floor. Her legs pulled into her chest her left hand clutching the blunt stump that remained of her right arm.

 _She´s lost her arm. Her bloody sword-arm._ His thoughts turned to fury. To hatred. To brutal and merciless vengeance for the treachery that had been wrought on him, and Emma.

"I´ll kill her." Hjalmar swore. "I´ll tear her arms of and club her to death with them."

"She´s ascended." Emma said, her forehead pressed against her knees. "She´s no longer of this world or reality. She´s an eternal slave to the Prince of Pleasure."

"Then I´ll butcher her for eternity." Hjalmar cursed. "She´ll be my prey. I´ll make her fear the Wolves of Fenris once again."

Emma sat still without a word from her, though Hjalmar could hear the little trickles of tears dripping of her face.

"It´ll be my vengeance and yours." He let his anger command his voice. He let it dominate it. "We´ll hunt her down and send her screaming back to her new _master_." Contempt ran thick through his throat. "The tales she´ll tell of us will be tales of fear so great that Slaanesh will hide within its Palace of Pleasure." He went on, promising glory for her and shame for the chosen of the Prince. He promised to make a trophy of Johana´s head. He swore to write songs of their triumph. He made all these promises and more, but all Emma did was sit silent with tears dripping in thick drops.

He tried putting his hand on her again. Like before, Emma leaped from his hand. Her crude, cracked nails drawing red gashes on his arm.

" _Don´t touch me!_ " She screamed while clutching her shoulder.

Hjalmar´s hand folded to a half-formed fist before it sank to his side. Seeing Emma so scared of him. Seeing her so frail, the tears returned to his eyes. _Is this why we survived? So that the dark god of perversions could make a mockery of our pain?_

"I´ll hunt her down." Hjalmar said, rising to leave the room. "We´ll head for Fenris and gather my brothers. This heretical treachery will be avenged."

"Send me back to Prosturo." Emma pleaded.

"Back to Prosturo? Back to your homeplanet?"

"I am the Palatine of the Talons." She looked up at Hjalmar with red-burned eyes. "My duty is to my company. To the eternal watch to keep the forces of Chaos at bay. Please, take me back home."

"Do you remember what Galatea said?" He knew well that he would not be to only one who would be meet with a harsh welcome when returning to the planet. He expected he would look like some minor mishap when compared to the losses suffered by the Talons Company.

"I remember." Emma remained firm in her stand though fear had a strong handle on her voice. "I beg you, take me back home. It is my last chance at redemption."

"There will be no redemption for you there. Only punishment."

"If that is what awaits me, then it is what I will face." Her eyes where murky like puddles. Hjalmar wanted to take her in his arms and tell it was not her fault, that he was the one who brought them this shame. That it was the marks on his honor that brought this nightmare.

"My brothers are dead. Every single one of them. I have nothing left." He looked at the Palatine and sighed silently. "I have nothing except you. The Palatine of the Talons with strong guts and a spirit for battle. Emma, please, don´t throw your life away for my failures."

Emma shook her head. "This shame and taint are of my own making. It is a taint I carried with me before I became a Sister of the Hawk. Now that I have become Palatine of the Talons, it has marked those serving in under my command. I pledged my life and honor to the Emperor, now I must face the consequences."

 _Be it glorious or notorious, I will perform my duty above all._ Words of the past echoed through the old wolf´s mind. "If I return to Fenris, my brothers will strip me of my titles and rank. They perform the drawn blood eagle on me before the entire chapter. They will make sure my death is heard and remembered, they´ll destroy my geneseed to make sure it can´t be carried forth, but you will survive. I will plead for a last request, and I will ensure that they spare your life. You will survive to reclaim your honor."

"If I flee, my shame will only grow until it becomes beyond any redemption. Your brothers may spare me, Hjalmar, but the Emperor will not."

"You´ll be walking into your own death if you return to your home."

"So will you." Emma said in pained admittance. "No matter what we do, one of us will be fleeing." She clutched the cloth on her stomach and pulled it hard.

Hjalmar rubbed his eyes, fighting to keep the tears from releasing again. "If we return to Fenris, we will both be fleeing from your shame. If we return to Prosturo, we will be facing it."

Emma looked up at the old wolf. "So that´s it then. We both return and face what comes."

"We will face what comes." Hjalmar said. "And fight it with every ounce of strength we have left."

Soft words slipped past Emma lips. She assumed they were whispers beyond Hjalmar's ears, but few things were.

 _For the Emperor._


	90. Chapter 87

The black rose chapter 87

They broke through into realspace and the old wolf shivered at what he saw from the observatory. A fresh armada. A full battle fleet surrounding the planet, locked in constant warfare with ships carrying the darkened purple shades of Slaanesh. The blue oceans Hjalmar remembered when he first saw the planet had turned into toxic shades of grey. Circles of massive hive-cities glowed with furious orange, lines extending across the surface. Parts of the ground was on fire, burning with the flames of war.

" _Captain,_ " The shipmaster spoke through the vox. " _They demand we identify yourselves. Requesting permission to confirm._ "

"Granted." Hjalmar closed the vox. It would not be long before they entered the atmosphere. Before they would set foot down on the planet once again.

He closed his eyes.

 _What am I now? What is left of me? What is left of the wolf that mentored thousands? The wolf howled with his pack brothers? Where has he gone on his hunt? He is running through the bitter night with neither stars nor moon to guide him. The winter wind moans the deaths of his brothers. Only a mortal left by side as they both face the darkness._

He started making his way towards the cell that held the Palatine of the Talons. He entered, and found Emma curled up in the corner. She had refused to leave the cell and the few of the crew that dared going near her would quickly leave the room with horrible injuries and cuts. The fate she suffered by the hand of her sister had made Emma sink into a feral state that Hjalmar had seen horrifically reflected in Tor´s final moments.

Though what he saw in Emma was different. This wasn´t a blood crazed state caused by a thirst for flesh. This was the act of a cornered, terrified animal.

 _Fear, like Chaos, marks us all. And its marks never wash away._

Hjalmar kneeled before Emma, hoping to make himself less of a threat.

"Hjalmar…" She lifted her head before he could say anything. "The little creatures. They keep biting through my arm." Shifting, she pulled away the robes to show the blunt stub that remained of her arm. "They keep nibbling and biting. They never stop. My arm is gone, but I can still feel them burrowing through my flesh."

"Both my legs are gone, but I can still feel my toes." Hjalmar said. "I can still feel my muscles tensing. But when I look down, all I see is a pair of mechanical stilts." His thoughts returned to Tor, and how he lost his entire arm and never spoke a word of complaint about it. He never said the metal felt cold against his flesh or that he could still feel his fingers tingling. _He may have been a blueboy, but he was never one to shun his duty._ It should have different. He wished it was different. Tor, along with all of his brothers should have been the one who survived, and Hjalmar should have been the one to lose to the curse of the wulfen.

"Hjalmar," Emma looked up at him. "Grab my arm." She raised to stub towards him.

"Are you sure?"

"Do it."

The old wolf extended his hand wrapped his fingers gently around what would have been her arm. He could almost imagine it, before he heard Emma wincing and shivering. He pulled his hand back and Emma clutched the cloth that would have covered her arm.

"It burns whenever someone touches it."

Hjalmar, still uncertain of what to make or say of anything, rose. He sighed from the depths of his chest. "We have arrived the at Prosturo. We are about to enter the planet´s atmosphere."

"Then it won´t be long." Emma said, pushing her hair back in what seemed like some vain effort to make herself presentable. "We will soon both face your judgment."

 _If we´re lucky they´ll stick us on some cell._ Hjalmar thought, sniping his own thought. "They´ll have us both executed."

"The price of duty." Emma said.

"The gratitude of morons and cowards who command their soldiers from afar." He thought about the General with his cursed raven.

"If we are sentenced to death, then we will face death stalwartly. We will die with honor."

"We´ll both become farces for the masses." Hjalmar growled. "They love a public execution. They`ll cheer as they tear our guts out and laugh while we scream."

"Are you going to scream?"

"No. I am going to roar." Hjalmar snarled bitterly while baring his teeth. "I am going bellow so loud that their ears will start to bleed before they run away in screaming terror."

"I am not going to scream." Emma said. "I am going to remain silent. I don´t care what they will do to me."

He wished he could believe her. He wished he could tell that she was going to remain silent as a statue while they slowly killed her. But he could hear her heart pounding with dread and her blood running with fear. Disregarding even that, she was only mortal. Though more capable than some, he´d seen the way pain afflicted her and he knew the ways that she constantly fought to hide it. He caught himself raising his hand to embrace her. He stopped himself before she could notice. What was it that motivated such willingness to face her old foes and her own execution? Rage? Duty? Faith? _Maybe any reason is good enough. Maybe, even when all you are seeing is a shameful death standing on the path before you, the vainest hope is enough._ He looked down at her and his fingers coiled into thick fists. _She is the only reason I have left, and maybe that is enough._

"Only in death does duty end." Hjalmar said. "But they´ll make our deaths last. If they´re good they can make it last hours."

Emma looked at him with eyes that fought a loosing battle to keep any sign of fear at bay. It was only now that he understood that it was not the pain of being butchered agonizingly slowly that was the cause of her fear. It was something far simpler, yet it would prod at an open, raw wound.

"Until we are both dead," Hjalmar said. "our duty to the Emperor is not over. Until we are dead, we still serve him."

"What can we do?" Emma asked. "What can we do when we are both being torn apart for a show for the masses?"

"We can show him the strength of our devotion." Hjalmar marked with one of his fingers. "We can admit to him our deepest regrets and let him know the real pain that will be afflicting us."

"And what is that pain?"

"The pain that our duty is at an end and that we can´t bring more glory to His Imperium."

Emma became silent. She made a brief half-smile of gratitude before her gaze sifted solemnly to the floor. "What is your deepest regret, Hjalmar?"

 _Meeting you. Having my brothers killed for you. Losing both my legs for you._ He knew she anticipated he would say something of that nature. He kneeled again and looked into her eyes.

"That I didn´t cleave your traitorous sister in half." He said, his voice as cold and soft as a wind frozen mist in the Fenrisian summer.

Emma closed her eyes and single tear rolled slowly down her cheek.

"What is yours?"

"I don´t know."

"Best figure it out." 


	91. Chapter 88

The black rose chapter 88

The old wolf stood on the ramp, the Palatine of the Talons by his side, both of them facing the Supreme Judge, the Palatine of the Tail, the Palatine of the Wings. Hjalmar lifted one of his mechanical legs, the buzzing of the gears grinding in his ears. He wanted to be the face them first, but it was Emma who moved before he could set his leg down. She hurried past him and kneeled clumsily before Galatea.

"Forgive us," Emma said. "For we have both failed in our mission. All the wolves apart from Hjalmar have been destroyed along with everyone of the Sisters of the Talons that followed me into the Eye of Terror. We come to face punishment and seek redemption."

Sophia spat on Emma´s head. "You truly are a fool. You wasted half your company the Eye of Terror seeking the STC and your sisters. Now you´ve returned missing an arm and hope for redemption. You should have done the honorable thing and died in the Eye! Now the traitors have returned and are hounding us with even greater force!"

Hjalmar´s brows folded, and his lips trembled. Sophia gave him a short glance before returning her gaze back to Emma. She grabbed Emma by her hair and pulled her up before putting her claws against Emma´s neck. The old wolf would have charged if Galatea hadn´t caught her sister´s wrist.

"What are you doing?" Galatea asked with her arm trembling to hold Sophia´s arm at bay.

"Punishing her."

Galatea pulled her sisters arm down. "You have no right to condemn her. You may hate her, but Emma is still your sister in rank. Only a Canoness would possess the rank to execute her."

The two Palatines exchanged long, harsh glares. Galatea with both hands wrapped around Sophia´s wrist and Sophia holding Emma up by a handful of her hair while fighting to push her crackling claws through Emma´s stomach. Throughout the whole thing, Emma remained as silent as she was immobile.

"She´s right, Sophia." Conrad broke in. "You as a Palatine, you do not posse the rank to execute one your own rank without having yourself put on trial."

A rasping and rough breath passed through Sophia´s augmented throat. She withdrew her claws and opened her hand, sending Emma to the floor with hard thud and strings of hair torn from the joints Sophia´s armor. Galatea let go of her hand and both stepped back from the Palatine of the Talons.

"However," Conrad shoot a look of disgust towards Emma, lying trembling on the ground, her face hidden behind a vail of torn and viscously torn hair. "As Supreme Judge and acting governor of the Prosturo, I possess the rank and authority to issue her sentence."

Hearing the words coming out of the Judge, Hjalmar stepped forward. He stared down at Conrad with a closed fist that could crush the brittle, old man with a single smack. He heaved breaths that produced constant snarls.

"Whatever sentence you give her, I will share it." Hjalmar said with growls curling every word.

"So be it." Conrad snapped his fingers and summoned and a dozen of armed soldiers. "Arbites, arrest these two and throw them into the cells. I shall see to their trial soon enough."

The arbeties moved cautiously around Hjalmar, their fear far from unfounded. He was prepared to unleash his wrath on every single one of them, smashing them aside and breaking their bones like dry twigs.

One approached Emma, chains in his hand. He was shunned back by Hjalmar looking at him.

"If you a lay your hands on her I´ll rip your liver from your stomach and eat it while you still breath."

The guard stepped slowly away from the old wolf, the helmet covering his face only muting the smell of nervous sweat.

"How do you expect us to transport you to the cells if you refuse to let us take the Palatine?" Conrad snidely asked.

"Don´t touch her and I´ll let you take her to any cell you want," He glanced back at the guard. "Don´t bother putting those chains on me. I can break tear them apart like rotten ropes."

"Very well," Conrad conceded. "Arbites, escort these two to the dungeons. The trail shall stand in the morning."

* * *

They were placed into the same cell. They first tried to throw them into separate cells, but Hjalmar needed only make some threats and the guards agreed not to separate them. Emma stepped silently through into the cell and sat down without a word. Face buried in knees drawn to her chest and messed hair.

The old wolf crouched to fit into the cell, his augmented legs buzzing as the knees bent. He pondered if there was anything left to say, anything that would cheer her spirit, but all he could think was the same dull words he had used before. He sank against the wall, staring blankly at the roof.

His ears perked. He could hear whispers. At first, he suspected they were coming from the other cells, mere words of awe and surprise they hadn´t dare utter when the old wolf was being carried in. But when he closed his eyes to listen better, he the tone of the voice uttering the whispers was as familiar as it was wrenching to his senses.

"… _God-Emperor, guide us, show us your path, grant us honor and accept our lives as honest as they are loyal._ " Emma whispered prayers.

 _She is with her true judge. The man who will truly weigh her deeds and… sins._ Hjalmar could hardly swallow more of it. She prayed to the most powerful man in the galaxy. She prayed to a man who could hardly take notice of either of them when thousands of others proclaimed their faith in the same way.

 _Stupid…_ He let his face sink into his palm.

" _Let me meet my son again…_ "

Hjalmar lifted his head as if he had caught the scent of fresh blood. _Son?_


	92. Chapter 89

The black rose chapter 89

"Hjalmar Hargen of the Vlka Fenryka," The Supreme Judge said from his podium, the scribe servitor humming as it took notes of every word. Hjalmar gave no recognition beyond a disgusted twitch of his lip. "Emma, Palatine of the Talons, you stand accused of heresy by making decrees with traitors to the Imperium of Man. Do you deny these accusations?"

Hjalmar looked up at Conrad. There was a weak boil of anger deep in his chest, but it was not enough to reach the surface. Emma remained as silent as she had in the cell, whispering her little prayers and pleadings that only Hjalmar´s ears could notice.

"In the presence of no response, it will be assumed that both of the accused are pleading guilty." Conrad said. "The evidence shall now quickly be reviewed; we have documents by the High General that this treaty was signed, we have witnesses from the nobles of Molncel that a deal was struck and of course both the Palatine of the Tail and the Palatine of the Wings will confirm it." The Judge looked towards Emma. "Guards, raise the Palatine´s robes and expose the right side of her stomach."

None of the guards dared approach.

Conrad glared at Hjalmar, and Hjalmar made a grim and somber chuckle.

"If the Palatine does expose the evidence that is needed for this trail then she will be executed on sight for refusal, a sentence you will of course be sharing." Conrad said and Hjalmar made a growl that resembled laughter.

"Then kill us and be done with it."

Conrad opened his mouth to give the order, when he was interrupted by a shout.

"Supreme Judge!" Galatea rose out of her seat. "I object to their execution."

"On what grounds do you mean prevent it?"

"On the Oath of Hawk." Galatea said. "The service of death. When a Sisters of the Hawk swears herself into our order, she pledges her life to the God-Emperor of Mankind. She swears to give her life for His will and Imperium. If you execute the Palatine of the Talons here, you will have thrown her life away and discarded her chance at redemption."

"Will you defend her?" Conrad brow raised. "Will you defend this Palatine who has gotten half of her company wasted in a vain?"

"I will defend the Palatine who as pledged her life to safeguard and preserve our order." Galatea looked towards Hjalmar. "I will also defend the wolf who saved us from certain doom."

"Then, Palatine of the Tail, what would you suggest?"

"I pledge for both of them to take the oath of Repentia." Galatea said, and Hjalmar noticed little cracks in her voice of desperation. But when he looked to Emma, he found a smile of hopefulness barely visible beneath her spilled hair.

"The Palatine is in possession of that right," Conrad said. "And the Astartes Captain as pledged himself to endure whatever punishment befalls her. The only requirement is that they confess their crimes."

"I got all my brothers butchered." Hjalmar started. "I sent them along with half the Talons Company into the Eye with me. I… I killed my youngest brother, Tor, after he had succumbed to the Curse of the Wulfen. I ate their flesh to survive. I forced the Palatine to swallow it as well. I forced large chunks of meat down her throat while I dragged her across the black wasteland."

"Are those your only crimes?"

"They´re all you need to know."

Silence took over the court once Hjalmar finished. He paid them no mind. His eyes remained softly focused on Emma.

"What was your reason for eating the flesh of your brothers and feeding it to the Palatine of the Talons?" Conrad´s pale lips pulled up in disgust.

Quietly, Hjalmar whispered an apology to Emma before he answered. "Survival, Judge. It was a matter of survival."

"You survived to come back?"

Hjalmar raised his sight. "We survived to fight."

"Very well, but you shall share punishment with the Palatine, and she has yet to confess her crimes." Conrad turned his beady eyes towards Emma. "Palatine of the Talons, Emma, do you wish to confess?"

"…Confess…" The word spilled from her lips. Lifting her head slowly, as if her head was made of solid lead. "What shall I confess?"

"Your crimes and your sins, Palatine." The patience was stripped from Conrad´s voice, making his words harsher then usual.

"I have failed my order and thrown half of my company away in a vain effort to fetch an STC."

"Are those all of your crimes?"

"No," Emma braised against her knee and rose trembling. "There is more." The words came with a wince of sharp pain. "I have taken an oath to never tell lies. To let the truth be my guide and code. I shall confess my sins, so that the Emperor will know my death to be honest and my faith to be pure." The well of tears started building in her eyes. "I am… I was a whore."

For the next minute, the court may has well have been a tomb.

"My mother was a whore, and I inherited her trade. And like her I was blessed with a life in my belly." With her only remaining hand, Emma clutched the cloth on her stomach and pulled it tight across her chest. Tears started running down her face. "I was blessed with a life I was to weak to bring into the world. I was tainted. I joined the Sisters of the Hawk, seeking purity but unsure of what the Emperor wanted of me. It took me years to see it. He took my son so that I would fight to see him again. He took him as a test of my faith, a test I have still not _failed_! Though it has been tested many times over. And I… have been temped." She looked around the courtroom, tears dripping. "I loved my Sister Superior Johana. I loved her and she loved me. I loved her and _she did this to_ _me_!" In one brutal pull, Emma tore her robes to shreds and exposed her upper body for all of them to see. Some faces turned pale, others turned away in terror. Most just stared at her, blank and opaque faces gawking at her.

"It took me a long time, but now, I see now what she was." Emma turned to Conrad. Hjalmar noticed the Judge´s eye flinch at the sight of her. "She was nothing, but a temptation wrought on me by the Dark God Slaanesh. I was blind to believe what I saw in her, but now my eyes are wide open." She stepped forward, the torn fabric brushing against her scared skin. "I will take the oath of Repentia. Send me into combat with nothing but my hands if you will, I will fight until I can no longer move. I will die, but I will take the enemy with me and make the God-Emperor see the purity and zeal of my faith!"

The breaths of the few that had released them whispered through the hall. The scribe servitor went still, waiting for the next person to speak.

"I know my son waits for me." Emma said with salty tears dripping from her cheeks. "My death comes with neither shame nor apology! The God-Emperor will welcome me. I will enter into His divine grace, and there I will embrace my son, and then there will be nothing I could love more than him."

She went silent, and so did the court. Everyone sat still as a statue. No one dared speak before the Supreme Judge made his sentence.

His chair creaked when he rose from hit. It hit tumbled and hit the floor with wooden crack. "Emma, Palatine of the Tail, having confessed your sins and revealed your lies, I sentence you to death by Repentia." He made passing glare of hostility towards Hjalmar, something the old wolf barely noticed. "May the Emperor have mercy on your souls, for I hold none."

 _Mercy?_ Hjalmar looked at Emma with eyes as wide and pale as moons. _What mercy dose the Allfather keep for liars and oathbreakers?_


	93. chapter 90

The black rose chapter 90

The halls of the Martyred Lady´s temple housed some of the most magnificent architecture in the Capital. It held the tombs of heroes and martyrs of a thousand generations. Mighty warriors famed for their skills and triumphs. Serra the Blood-Red Hawk, Amira the Master of Forge and Blade, Clair Iron-willed and Stonehearted. These where just a few of the Sisters of the Hawk whose sacred bodies rested within the crypts of the temple. As Galatea stood before the statue of the Martyred Lady, she knew, history would never look at her sister Palatine in the same light.

 _Emma,_ Galatea looked across the chamber. Watching the Sisters of the Talons that remained, watching them stare at their Palatine marching naked through the hall. Most of them remained silent, not uttering a single word. Galatea suspected it to be out of fear of Hjalmar, but hoped it was for respect and love for their Palatine. A hope that was quickly made hollow.

"Traitor." One of the said with poison in her voice.

"Heretic!" Shouted another.

Emma kept pacing forward.

"Whore mother!" One of the sisters stepped out of the rank in front of Emma. "My blood-sister died to save your life! You should never have been allowed to join your ranks." A blade rasped as it was drawn.

"Sister Arinia!" Galatea commanded and the sword halted. "Step back in line."

The sword sank back into its scabbard and Emma walked past her sister as if she was a mere ghost. She kept walking until she stood face to face with the Palatine of the Tail. Galatea drew the notched whip she had attached from her hip. When held it before Emma, and her sister Palatine kneeled.

"I have brought a great shame onto the out order." Emma said. "Sins and lies that need to be redeemed."

"Your sins and lies are not mine to forgive." Galatea quoted the oath. "Only the God-Emperor may grant you that." She presented the whip towards Emma. "Do you accept the oath?"

Emma wrapped her hand around the whip. "I do." She took it out of Galatea´s hand and started violently whacking it across her back. Tearing more and more gashes into her skin. Each gash started as deep red ruby, but as the blood poured from the wound, the shape was lost, only a hideous stream of blood remained. Soon the strings on the whip became the straws on a brush. A brush whose only color was crimson and the canvass that it painted was Emma back.

"Enough." Galatea caught Emma´s hand. "That´s enough." She said when Emma tried to yank her hand free. Emma dropped the whip and struggled violently to get her hand loose from Galatea´s grip. Galatea opened her hand, and Emma winced as if her arm had been scolded. Galatea kneeled before her sister and looked into her eyes. "You will never rest in these halls. Your name will never be remembered by sisters to come. It will fade from the pages of history. But I will remember it. Your name will always be in my prayers."

"Why?"

"Because I elected you." Galatea answered. "And I don´t believe I made the wrong choice."

"Only the Emperor needs to remember me." Emma rose, trembling as blood streamed down her back into a thousand fingers that all grew from single little dots. "And he will."

The serfs presented Emma with her new weapon. A weapon that, when rested with its point to the ground, still reached above Emma´s head. The Eviscerator. Galatea grasped the weapon with her arm, felt the weight of it and feared if Emma, having already spilled a puddle of blood from the wounds on her back, would be able to lift it with only one arm.

The Palatine of the Tail put the sword to the ground, its massive teeth rasping when they touched the marble floor.

"Palatine of the Talons," Galatea proclaimed for the gathering. "You have surrendered yourself to the oath of Repentia. You have been stripped of your armor and had your weapons removed. Now your faith will be your armor, the weapon you will spill the enemy's blood will be the brutal Eviscerator. Take it and rise."

Grasping the sword with her only remaining hand, Emma´s foot slipped on the blood dripping from her back. She trembled as she put the heavy weapon pommel to her stomach, using it to lean on and raise it. Panting, she put one knee forward and pushed herself slowly up.

Galatea heard the muscles flexing wetly on Emma´s back. She saw sweat gathering on Emma´s skin, running down her back and mixing with the blood already dripping from her wounds. She heaved breaths through teeth clenched together.

 _If she does not rise…._

As if hearing Galatea´s thoughts, Emma flew up. The massive, black sword leaping with her until it was raised above her head. With one final push, she straightened her arm and held the blade up for everyone to see.

They exchanged glances for a mere moment. The light faded from Emma´s eyes and she timbered limbless to the ground. The eviscerator threatened to bite into her flesh had Galatea not swathed the blade aside with arm armored gauntlet.

Emma laid fainted at the marble floor in front of her. Blood still poured from her back, spreading a puddle of red across the cream white marble.

Galatea stepped forward. "She has taken her oath! The Palatine of the Talons had surrendered her title and taken the oath of Repentia. If anyone wishes to step forward to claim themselves as suited for the rank of Palatine, steep forward now or be forever silent."

And silent they were. Galatea had suspected that at least one of the sisters would have stepped forward or raised their voice to claim themselves as worthy of Palatine. But no one did. Until, a single sister spoke.

"The rank of Palatine of the Talons is cursed." She said. "Your Canoness, strong and just, died disgraced and tricked. Emma, fool and mad, lost half her company in the Eye of Terror. The position is not just cursed, it is tainted by the Mark of Chaos."

Galatea gestured for the sister to step back into rank. "Should none step forward, a sister will be elected by the highest-ranking members of our orders. Until then, you may leave, it will not be long before we head into battle once again."

The sisters left the room on mass. Galatea ordered Hospitaler to tend to Emma´s wounds and make sure she was given a prosthetic replacement for her arm. Alone in the hall, Galatea prayed in front of the statue of the Martyred Lady.

 _Martyred Lady, you who´s name is long lost but whose memory will never fade, give me strength._ The sigh that blew past her lips was as heavy as it was long. _For I am about to talk to Sophia of the Wings about who should command the Talons._


	94. chapter 91

The black rose chapter 91

She had retreated to her Immolator, one of the few places she could find the solitude she needed for praying. She would have prayed at the altar of the Lady had the whole thing not been sieged by sisters from every company. It was not hard to see why. The battlefield was waiting. Though the navy, enforced by ships from mechanicum, had kept them at bay, they finally broke through. Their conquest had to be halted, Galatea knew, but only once the Governor and Archmagos considered the forces of Chaos to be a grave enough threat. Their statements had driven her absolutely mad, but it wasn´t the only thing that gnawed at her mind. The utter silence from Archmagos and Conrad on how the Titan project was progressing and the perplexing rumors of children being born with mutations in the Hive of Molncel. Having it happened to deeper parts of a hive was nothing new, but reports suggested specifically suggested this to be affecting the children of nobles.

 _Nobles who would otherwise have had the tech to make sure their children where carefully grown in vats or where pure enough to certain that impurities would never affect their bloodlines._ Her metallic eye clicked has she closed the flesh-and-blood one. _This needs to be investigated and examined for heresy._

She threw that idea aside with frustrated kick to tank´s hull. Though there were few sings, she trusted those who shared them, but she had no means to investigate. Conrad had placed the city under his custody, meaning it was guarded by a chosen of the Planetary Defense Forces and prohibiting the Sisters of the Hawk from entering its walls. Only the Mechanicus were given permission to enter freely.

 _Damn._ Galatea climbed out of the tank. Silence was a strong fuel for her focus but it was mostly a catalyst for anger.

* * *

She paced quickly through the Capital´s tunnels. Dark and grimy things, especially the dungeon. The air felt so thick simple breaths where heavy heaves. And the stenches of death and filth was enough to cause most to gag. Galatea felt the sting of it at first. She had grown accustomed to the stench of burning promethium charring human flesh. The smell of blasted bolter shells sometimes felt akin to taking in the smells of flowers. That was where she belonged, on the field of battle. It was why the God-Emperor put her to creation. It was why he granted her life. She was good at it. Steering the tank, like how men in ancient times would mount great beasts and ride them into battle. Unleashing the wrath of the tank's flamers. That she knew, that she mastered. But the scent of slow, rotting death, was something altogether different though not holy unfamiliar. It had been years, but she remembered entering the guts of hives, purging them by sacred flame. But there was always one thing that beckoned brighter than all other memories when she looked back. The little girl she found hiding, crying. Galatea recalled hosting the girl up by the cloth on her neck. She roared with all her might into the girl´s face. "Do you fear the Emperor´s wrath?"

 _In the end, it was not the Emperor´s wrath she needed to fear. Her life and servitude were pure and righteous as she carried the Banner of the Hawk into battle._

It was in the depths of the dungeon that she found them. In the same cell, resting against the walls without speaking. Galatea commanded the guard to open the cell.

"Captain," She addressed the old wolf. "Palatine."

"I´m not a palatine anymore." Emma said.

"Fine then," Galatea frowned. "Sister."

Emma flexed a set of metallic fingers. Gears and joints buzzed like a swarm of insects as the fingers folded into a fist. She looked at Hjalmar´s legs and put her flesh and bone hand on the mechanical one. "This is why you have come isn´t it? To look at my arm."

"I came because we are going to war."

"Is that news?"

"This may be our last war. The war that ends us."

Hjalmar raised his voice. "It will be our last. Neither of us have any thoughts of living beyond it, Galatea. I said I´d share any punishment Emma receives and I am not about break that promise."

"Even if she has lied to you?" Galatea asked. "Even she´s lied to me? To everyone of her sisters?"

"Not everyone." Emma said as if she was about to leap at Galatea with murderous intent. The look in her eyes did little to dismay that notion.

 _Johana._ Galatea almost said it. She almost reminded Emma of it.

"What happened to Anna?" Galatea had to know. "What happened to her?"

Emma took a moment to answer. She swallowed and sat with her mouth open before an answer finally came. "She died trying to warn me. Anna died, and I failed to head her."

Galatea paced around the cell. She stopped before Emma and kneeled until their eyes where at level with each other. Emma didn´t look at her. Only a wail of rough, once golden bright hair, meet Galatea´s mismatched eyes.

"Emma," Galatea used the voice she used for giving commands. "Do you fear the Emperor´s wrath?"

The wail of hair was pushed back. Sky-blue glared into Galatea´s flesh and blood eye with rage of thunder behind them. "No. I do not fear His wrath."

"Why?"

"Because I have felt the hunger of She Who Thirsts."

"Do you think his wrath can be compared to the greed of Slaanesh?" Galatea´s brow strained against the metallic monocle on her skull.

"I have no wrath to fear from Him, because He has no wrath for give me."

"Despite your lies?"

"He will and has always known the truth." Emma said. "He saw the temptation I was offered, and he saw how I refused it. He has seen every traitor and heretic I have killed in His name. He knows the lengths and sacrifices I am willing to go to enact His sacred Will."

 _If He knows the truth, then he knows the lives of the sisters you gave for the STC and your sister. He will also know all the sisters who gave their lives to save you. He knows the length and sacrifices others are willing to make for Him, and you will be weighed against them._

"You´ve got strong guts, Emma." Hjalmar said. "Stronger than mine."

"Are you afraid of what will come?" Galatea asked.

"I´m not sure." Sitting down, the old wolf still looked giant, but he avoided Galatea´s eyes like an ashamed child. Hjalmar sighed with grunt. "I feared losing my brothers. I feared failing them. I feared being a stain on my chapters honor. I don´t fear them anymore, because they have all come true. There is nothing left for me to savor."

"But you are still scared." Galatea said. "You still fear what will come."

"There is only one thing left for me," Hjalmar´s cold, grey eyes meet Galatea´s flesh-and-blood eye. The bitterness in his eyes were like frozen smoke pushing chills through Galatea´s skin. His eyes closed. When they opened he looked at Emma. "I will not die before you. I will never allow your death. Do you hear me, Emma? I forbid you from dying."

She did not meet his eyes. "You are not my captain, Hjalmar. I only follow the Emperor´s will."

"My father was crafted and gene-forged by the His own hands. I was born a mortal like all of my brothers, but my flesh as been reborn by the genes of my father, the Wolf King Leman Russ. I am the closest you will come to the Allfather´s will."

"You do not speak for His voice." Emma said. "You can only speak for yourself."

"And you said that my father was the Allfather´s most loyal son. You said he always saw the Allfather´s will through. His blood courses through my veins, my father´s will gives strength to my hearts."

"Hjalmar, you are still afraid."

"Because you lied." Hjalmar growled. "You swore an oath to never tell lies, yet you hid the truth from everyone. From your cardinal, from Galatea, from me."

"And what would you have done if I spoke the truth?" Emma restrained her voice. "What would you have done if I had spoken the truth?"

"I would have seen your cause to purer and nobler than most." Hjalmar narrowed his eyes with flashes of his fangs showing. "Now I only see a coward."

 _What would I have done?_ Galatea barely had time to think about it before Emma threw the same question at her.

"What would you have done to me, Galatea?" She nearly shouted. "What you have done if you knew I had lost my son and lied to enter the Sisters of the Hawk?"

 _Seeking to find the life you bore. Could an act of love like that ever be heresy?_ The thought was immediately countered by what Galatea tried willfully to hide. It was not the act itself, but the means that made the child that tainted Emma´s purity. It was a stain on her, as the child was a stain on the Order. _A child brought forth through such unholy and unsanctified means… a child like that was born tainted, and nothing could wash it clean._

"The Canoness would have had you burned by the stake. Sophia would have crucified you."

"I´m not asking what they would have done, I am asking what you would have done."

"I would have had you executed by a single bolt-round to your head." Galatea answered. "I would have acted on my duty and my oath."

"Do you see now why I lied?" Emma turned to Hjalmar. "I lied to survive. I lied for my son. My only son."

A terrifying anger darkened to old wolf´s face. The markings time had left on him grew deeper as if he had suddenly aged a century in the span of a few moments. "I´ll never let you die before me."

"Then go." Emma waved her metal arm. "Throw yourself into the thick of combat and let the enemy tear your hearts from your chest. Or seek out the biggest and mightiest daemon on the battlefield and have it rip your arms from their sockets."

Hjalmar rose and his massive frame casted a thick shadow over Emma. "I only have one death, same as you. I will not waste it by letting it come easy for the enemy. If you hope for the Allfather to see you, you cannot waste it either."

"I will claim a hundred lives before I fall." Emma promised. "I will spill enough blood to turn the ground beneath my feet red."

"Will it be their blood," Hjalmar´s gaze jumped up and down the length of Emma´s body. "Or yours?"

"Enough from both you." Galatea stepped in between them. "You can keep arguing all you want, but it won´t be long. It will only be a few hours before we are going to the front."

"We´ll be going to the front." Emma said. "You´ll be inside your tank."


	95. chapter 92

The black rose chapter 92

From the top of her spire, Serena gazed across the depths of Molncel with a hungry smile and greedy eyes. The young general was behind her, his hands wrapped around her swollen belly as he leaned in to kiss her neck. Serena cared for him as she would care for a cold wind stocking her cheek.

 _The Angel has made it difficult for me._ Serena thought. _How did I find the box? And how will I convince the Arch-magos to accept it?_

It was troublesome. But the potential she saw in it was more than she could barely dream of. Ascension. Becoming something beyond the limit of a simple human. To make an entire city follow your every whim by just letting them see you. That was the taste of the power Serena felt when the Angel came to her. Others may have suspected it a mere dream, but Serena never doubted her vision, and the black box only reinforced it. The box was a promise of what would come if she took the seed given to her and fostered its growth. There where of course others. Others that claimed similar visions when gossiping. They chatted about how they had been visited by the Angel and described how they were in absolute awe at its presence. Serena never failed to feel the temptation to jealously strike them for mentioning how they felt so small when in the presence of the Angel. _How come they always discuss this Angel when I am around?_ This thing they barely know of had managed to become a stronger presence than Serena herself. _I should have their eyes gouged out and ask them if they can still see the Angel when they sleep then._

Regardless of how angered she was, Serena could always take some comfort in the fact that the Angel had left its mark on her. She had been chosen to deliver its "blessing", as she had come to call the box.

 _But how will I deliver it? How will make sure they believe what I tell them?_ Serena knew that a convincing lie needs a hint of truth to make it believable. But what kind of truth could she use to mask how she got the box? She considered planting it with one of her friends, seeing if they would be stupid enough to try and give it to the Mechanicus without thought, and then laugh as they would get turned into a poorly lobotomized servitor. While it would be funny and deal a lethal blow to one of her rivals, perhaps eliminating an opposing house entirely, she would have lost the blessing and have no good way of getting it back without much difficulty.

Her thoughts where interrupted by Corey wrapping his arm around her neck and reaching down her dress with the other. She took his hand pulled it gently out.

"Later, my love." She whispered softly into his ear while kissing his knuckles. "Later."

She traveled wandered into the depths of her archives. Gathered over countless generations, they housed shelves filled with scrolls that climbed a hundred meters. She would have had to climb to lethal heights if not for her large stomach and the tradition that no lady of House Blois should have to fetch such menial things for herself. She ordered one of her serfs to climb the ladders and start to collect the scrolls she asked for. The tale of Magino Blois, the Lord Who Kneeled who meet the first ambassadors of the Imperium of Man. The story went that he faced one of the Emperor´s very own sons and almost died in awe before the god made flesh. Records of Fargo Blois, Master of Brush and Blade, a legendary swordsman who was famed for being able to take down any foe with only two strikes of his rapier and who captured the scene of every battle he fought by lavishly painting it. Serena had seen some of them, they were truly masterful pieces of art, but she had never had much taste for anything for the craft. His skill with the blade was something that always interested her far more, but his sword was long gone, stolen and lost. And finally, the history of Angine Blois, the Lady Who Walked with Cat paws and Spun Webs of Information. Born as a lowlife to parents who left her in the streets to die, she stole what she couldn´t take, until she learned that the scribbles written on the parchment, she stole could be worth far more than coins. She quickly managed to grow a fortune of knowledge and wasted little time investing in improving her stature and position. Serena held her in special regard, not just for being her favorite the read about when she was a young girl, but because she was the only one known to keep secrets and hide things away that she never revealed to anyone, not even to her late husband, though Serena assumed she felt the same about him as she felt about Corey. _Fifteen years older than her, and a fat oaf._ It was not difficult to suspect that any children Angine bore were the product of affairs she held with far stronger and better men.

 _I wonder how many generations back she goes._ Serena thought as she distracted herself with an image of her ancestor. She poured over all the documents of her heroes great and old of her House. She looked over every document and letter that could be found, hoping to find something, some hint of them heading out into the greater galaxy, looking for treasures like the blessing she had been given by the angel. To her bitter frustration, she found little mention of any of them heading of world to find pieces like it.

"There must be something, somewhere."

She started sending for records of far more obscure heroes. Balvor, the Coward, who lived and died within this house. Valdrio, the Machine, who sought to outdo the tech-priests by replacing his body with metal and gears, he died from trying to remove his own brain. The list went on to lesser and lesser known, with less and less written about them. It took her several long hours before she eventually slouched down behind the writing desk. She looked down at her swollen belly and her lips pursed.

 _You as well. I can´t keep you a secret for much longer. I need someone be the official father to the successor to House Blois._ She grounded her teeth bitterly. A short time, she had managed to climb higher and become mightier than she ever imagined, now she was stuck and watched those above with a biting envy. She flicked through another series of papers, searching for some story about someone, even some distant cousin searching for a box like this. The more she read, the bleaker her chances looked. The candle that sat flickering on next to her was desperately clinging onto a short strand at the bottom of a molten crater that the flame itself had carved out. With a gentle stroke of her hand, Serena let her fingers swipe across the little orange-white fire. The wind brought on by her hand was enough to snuff out the flame, leaving Serena in darkness. It wouldn´t take long before some serf would come looking for her, bringing fresh candles and sweet fruits.

By the time the serf arrived, her eyes had grown accustomed to the darkness. The light he brought with him was gratingly bright and Serena sent her out with an insult and a warning before returning to the records. She puzzled on ways to explain the child.

 _A making of love?_ Serena joked bitterly to herself. _A blessing from the Emperor, a virgin birth!_ That made her laugh. _A bastard?_ It seemed more likely, but it was not something that Serena was willing to risk, her child was going to be a highly regarded, true prodigy to House Blois, at least to the eyes of the populace. She would groom her child, make it strong and skilled, make it beautiful and beloved. Make the populace adore it and have them follow its every whim like a serf follows her. _The greater the sacrifice, the greater the reward._ It would not just be her child that was going to be sacrificed. Everyone who loved and adored it would follow with it. They would all be unknowingly herded like livestock before they feed the god of the Angel.

The thoughts made her deeply smile. The thought of reigning with such power. It was so beyond her thoughts and comprehension that she barely knew what to make of the thought. As powerful as her dream was, it was only a dream. The dripping of hot wax on her hand brought her back to reality.

 _Curses._ Serena brushed the wax of her and accidently knocked the candle itself down. The iron candlestick clanged loudly as it hit the cold stone floor. When Serena leaned down to pick it up, she recognized the sigil of the House that made it; Ironfield, a house that sparked jealousy amongst almost all other nobles. They were only remarkable for General Ironfield, the commander famed for his staunch and faultless carrier. He had somehow managed to not only make his house famous, but they had also been made one of the mightiest houses on the planet within just his lifetime.

 _Now they are fading. His son as become a useless mute and the lost daughter probably died at some time during the war._ Serena pondered for a moment if the Palatine of the Talons could be his daughter. _No, the general had hair black as oil, and his wife had a color to match. There is no chance that anyone with those… Pale strings could be a child of his. Shame almost, the Palatine could have made for a useful ally, she was naïve enough to believe anything I said._

Serena put the candle back on the desk and was just about to sit back down when she froze in place. _Useless mute…_ A smile grew. _Yes, very useless. Almost completely so._


	96. chapter 93

The black rose chapter 93

 _Is that pure rain,_ Hjalmar listened to drops smacking against the hull of Rhino transporting him and Emma. _Or black tears filled with smog?_

The tank drove for hours. Sniffing the air, the old wolf felt the bitter taste of ash on his tongue. He lifted his lip as if chewing on something. He sucked a slow breath. The air stung ever so slightly as it pressed between his clenched teeth. He knew those scents and smells. At another time he might have longed for them. He might have longed for the sensation spilling the blood of enemies and pushing his axe so hard into their flesh it was hard to tear lose. For a moment, he closed his eyes and imagined himself back there, back on the field of battle with his brothers. Howling as they charged headfirst into battle, unleashing their hatred by bolter, axe and chainsword. Hidden by the thick of his beard, Hjalmar smiled, until he opened his eyes and returned the cramped interior of the tank.

Emma sat before him. Quiet apart from her little mumblings and prayers.

 _By Russ…_ Hjalmar chewed on the inside of his cheek. _Emma, you are a liar, a whore and a bloody idiot. Praying to the Allfather as if he was some of god of Mankind._ He looked at the chains they had forged to hold him. Pathetic things. The links could hardly withstand the tug and pull of a strong mortal. Hjalmar pictured how easy it would be to tear them apart. He imagined it would be no harder than tearing rotten rope apart. But he still sank back into his seat. He looked at her, but she did not look back. Her eyes where closed as her hand folded over a mechanical fist. She kept mumbling her prayers. The words where so soft Hjalmar could barely pick them up. But he knew exactly what she was praying for.

 _Now I finally know what it was. What was her reason. What carried her forth and brought her here._ The muscles in Hjalmar´s face pulled together, as if he was wincing from pain. _Was it good enough? Was it ever good enough?_

The Rhino came to a stop. Emma´s prayers stopped, and Hjalmar rose from his seat. Galatea climbed out of her driver´s chair and opened the rear door without a word.

The old wolf squatted down and climbed awkwardly out of the Rhino with Emma following him. Two sisters stood ready to meet them. One was carrying a chainsword that ran the length and thickness of Hjalmar´s arm. The other held an axe that looked pettishly small to Hjalmar´s eyes.

"Your weapons." Galatea unlocked their chains. "Emma, take your Eviscerator. Hjalmar, take your axe."

Emma took the chainsword with both her hands and rested the heavy weapon´s point on the ground. Hjalmar picked the axe from the sister´s hand. In the distance, Sophia watched the old wolf with a satisfied snicker.

"Where are we dying?" Hjalmar asked while trying to wrap his fingers comfortably around the axe´s narrow hilt.

"There." Galatea pointed her hand towards a hive screaming with the nauseating tunes.

Hjalmar flexed his fist around the handle of the axe. He felt the metal bend beneath his fingers. "Let´s go." He declared to see Emma having already started walking.

A sister carrying a pair of whips crackling with sparks of blue lightning followed them.

 _Go ahead. Strike me. Beat me bloody._

The ground beyond the hill was a land corrupted beyond recognition. The hive city casted its shadow on it. A city that throbbed and pulsed with noises that might have been thought of as a musical by ears that could not listen. The colors that peered out of the spires may have been vivid and beautiful to eyes that could not see.

"Merodi." Galatea said. "The latest hive to fall. The one that tipped the scales according to the Arch-Magos´ calculations. We are to reclaim it or purge it."

"Send us forth." Emma lifted her weapon. "I am ready."

Hjalmar grounded his teeth. "Where do we attack?"

"The front gate." Galatea said. "They are preoccupied with their celebration to keep any watch or guard up."

"Then hurry up and blast the bloody gate to pieces." The old wolf growled. "My axe hungers for traitor´s flesh."

The whip cracked the moment before it scrapped Hjalmar´s back. The electrifying current that ran through his body made his muscles tense for a brief moment.

"It is not your place to make demands, wolf." The mistress snapped.

Hjalmar tensed, and felt the blood running down his back in the trace of long a warm finger.

"Vindicator Rhinos move advance alongside Imperial Knight Bordani." Galatea spoke through her vox. "Processed to the gate and break it down."

A formation of tanks with great cannon muzzles in their fronts drove forth, a giant machine-warrior stomped forth and the mistress cracked her whips across both Hjalmar´s and Emma´s backs. The smacks made Emma flinch violently. Her face was screaming but her mouth was forcefully silent.

"Forward, both of you!" The mistress commanded.

They marched forth, a whole squad of sisters from the Talons behind them. Hjalmar suspected them to be further reason for them to march forward like they were meant to, but when he looked to beyond, he saw more of them, silently marching in strict formations, Hjalmar picked up his pace. The whip kissed his back again.

"Do not break from your line!"

 _Only the sons of Roboute Guilliman being worthy of worship._ He held his distant cousin chapter in low regard. Their methods went beyond acting sensibly and spilled into complete cowardice. They wanted their enemies dead by sitting leagues away and dropping bombs on them, never facing their fears, just hiding behind walls of artillery and gunfire, seeing the engagement of close combat as a failure of strategy. He´d sooner fight with the Sons of the Lion.

The knight fired its massive cannon formation at the gate and hammered down the gate with series of shells.

Experience and instinct told Hjalmar that the enemy should be pouring from the gate like blood from a fresh wound. His muscles tensed and prepared for bloodshed.

Nothing came.

The sisters remained in formation. Bolters aimed squarely towards the empty streets beyond the gate. The tanks stood as immobile as boulders.

The old wolf´s lip peeled back, he growled through grounded teeth. " _COME OUT YOU COWARDS!_ " He bellowed. " _FACE US!_ "

The mistress cracked her whip. "Be quiet, wolf."

" _I`M GOING TO BE FIRST TO DIE HERE! COME! SEE IF YOU WILL BE THE LUCKY ONE TO MAKE THE FINAL CUT THAT WILL KILL ME!_ " The mistress´ whips smacked across Hjalmar´s back. Peeling away the skin and exposing the black carapace underneath. Her strikes where meant to quench the fire in Hjalmar´s chest, to cause him enough pain that he would simple succumb to it, but all it did was act as fuel on an already raging inferno.

" _MAKE ME BLEED! TEST YOUR COURAGE AND STRENGHT FOR YOUR HEDENOSTIC GOD! CLAIM THE HONOR OF KILLING A WOLF OF FENRIS!_ " He kept on ranting and roaring.

A shape moved in the streets. Was it the enemy? One of the Emperor´s Children traitor legion wandering the streets in search of hapless or willing victim for his patron god, or was it simple a scared citizen wandering hoping to escape the city?

Hjalmar growled. With the mistress still cracking her whips, Hjalmar braced his legs to run. The stilts that where meant to act as legs where functional but weighed against to sensation he would feel when the muscles in his calves would tighten before taking sprint, there was no comparison.

"For Ru…"

Emma charged. No warcry. No promises of death and blood. Only a charge fouled by the promise she made to the Emperor and her son. She moved quicker than Hjalmar had ever seen her before.

"Emma!" He bellowed and ran after her, hearing the sisters behind them making jokes about the Tainted Palatine being eager to die with her guardian wolf chasing her. "You´re not dying before me!" He shouted as he ran past her.

Emma didn´t answer. She simply ran as fast as her legs would carry her, hoping in wain that she would somehow be able to keep up with the old wolf.

Hjalmar leaped over the shattered gate and split the figure on the other side from shoulder to hip with a single strike from his axe. Already feeling the weapon´s bar giving in to the strike, he looked and saw the sisters standing where he left them, even the mistress had not moved. He laughed bitterly at them.

" _YOU BLOODY COWARDS!_ " He shouted. " _IS THAT ALL THE COURAGE YOU HAVE?! TO STAY BEHIND WHILE THE CONDEMMED DIE? ARE YOUR THAT WEAK?! IS THIS THE DEVOITION YOU HOLD FOR THE ALLFATHER?!_ "

Emma was deaf to his words. She leaped through the blasted gated with a grace hindered by the sword she wielded. The sisters didn´t move. Only their fingers gripping their bolters and flamers showed any sign of movement. Hjalmar was about to curse them again when the squads gained movement. A measured and careful march at first but it soon became a full sprint.

"I´ve seen snotlings with more grit than your sisters." Hjalmar cursed as Emma ran past him. She didn´t answer. She simple kept running, looking for the thickest and densest place where heretics would congregate, the center stage of their festival.

The old wolf took a mild amusement in Emma´s constant attempts to get ahead of him. As if any mortal could ever have the chance of outrunning him. Hjalmar kept a short distance from her, always keeping an eye on her, while listening to the sounds of the city. He listened for the congregate, and lead Emma there with shouts and barks. Those where the only sounds she responded to. Behind them, the sisters followed. Immolator tanks spewed their flames, drowning the streets in a hateful inferno. Vox-casters mounted on the tanks themselves preaching the memo of the sisters.

" _Fire purges! Fire cleanses!_ "

And purge it did. People visibly mutated and transformed by the gifts of the Slaanesh where violently consumed by the flames. Devoured like dry leaves drifting in the flames of a bonfire, their mutilated flesh melted like vax from their bones before they finally suffered the release of death.

Their screams blanketed Hjalmar´s ears. There were always the constant sources of screams and moans, but now he was having trouble telling their screams apart from the distant screams of the pagans practicing their tortures crafts. His sense of smell was completely useless. When he took sniffs of their air, he could only smell the bitter smell of charred meat and crackling promethium.

"Where are they?" Emma finally asked him when she noticed Hjalmar hadn´t moved for a few moments.

"Don´t know, can´t hear them."

Emma scoffed at him. "Track them somehow."

"Head to the east." A sister said.

"Why?" Hjalmar asked.

The sister tapped the side of her helmet. "The third feather have encountered a large group of heretics about three kilometers to the east, close to the center."

"My thanks." Emma ran off without another word.

Hjalmar headed after her.

Sure as the sister told them, the fighting grow thicker and thicker as they headed further east. Mutants as large as they were hideous came into their path. Though their size was little show for their wit or skill. Emma opened their guts with wide swing of her Eviscerator, and if they didn´t have the sense to die of that, Hjalmar would finish them by crushing their skulls with his fists.

He could soon smell the scent of burning flesh and heard the music of the heretical vassals singing their incomprehensible songs. The taste of traitor's blood returned to his tongue.

They saw the sisters first. They stood in firm formations next to their Rhinos, their bolters barking while their flamers spewed harsh, white fire. Emma ran up the side of a tank. She grabbed its edge with her metal hand and rolled herself onto the war-machine. Hjalmar leapt on top of the tank and saw the den that the sisters where purging with blessed bolters and sacred promethium. It was a butcher´s den being made into an orgy with all the tools of the trade being used to cause new, unholy forms of agony. People where simple not hoisted while their bodies where sliced to ribbons. They had been delicately carved, each piece of their flesh sculpted and stretched to become the mark of Slaanesh. Fumes and energies pulsed of them, releasing the energies of the Warp into realspace.

Emma leaped of the tank and tumbled into the pavement just beyond the reach of the flames. The old wolf headed after her, his augmented legs hitting the ground with loud pangs that made dents of spiderwebbed cracks through the ground.

Be they brave or just stupid, the heretics saw Hjalmar and Emma charging them and meet them by answering with screaming enthusiasm. To both Emma and Hjalmar, they were little more than small nuisances. Swinging a sword as broad as the Eviscerator, even the clumsiest wielders would be able to tear these hordes apart as if they were grass, but in Emma´s hands she swung the blade as if it was a violent extension of her wrath. Hjalmar, thinking of the axe as more of a dull club, kicked and punched anything that came within his reach. He let them die quickly, they wanted to feel pain and subject it, and he was not going to give them either.

The daemons that watched the battle perched on balconies and gargoyles simple laughed. When Hjalmar heard them, he unleashed a savage roar and challenged them.

"Fight me you cowards!"

" _ **He will make for a good sacrifice, won´t he?**_ " A deamonette pulling the tendons of man who had allowed them to be strung up like instrumental strings.

" _ **Slaanesh does still hunger for the taste of his flesh, and of the other one.**_ " A snake of a tongue graced thin, pale lips.

The daemons laughed again and leaped from their positions and landed before the old wolf with a taunting grace. They danced skillfully around the old wolf, avoiding his axe and strikes by taking steps that would have seemed to not carry them beyond an inch yet carried them for several meters, setting them on top of cultists or merely tossing them softly against walls to that they may leap to strike at him again. Their cuts where shallow but numerous and each one drew a thick stream of blood from Hjalmar´s unarmored skin.

" _ **Poor wolf, not just old but tired and broken as swell.**_ "

" _ **Mayhap we should draw a smile onto his face?**_ " The daemonette used her claws to cut the checks of an eager cultist. It may have been meant to look like a smile but all it did was leave a pair flapping pieces of flesh hanging of the woman´s already disfigured face.

Hjalmar charged. His metallic feet thundering. Those who stood in his way where crushed or flung aside. The daemonettes laughed and leaped forward to meet him. The old wolf raised his axe, and the daemons feinted from his attack. Another mocking laughter was made as they pulled their arms back to slice him across the back once again.

Driving his iron foot into the ground, Hjalmar turned and caught their razor coated claws with his open palm. He squeezed his hand around the claw and wrapped his other hand around the daemons head. The old wolf pressed until he could feel the tips of his fingers pressing against the inside of his palms.

" _ **Impressive durability, wolf.**_ " The reaming daemonette, nonchalantly complemented his efforts. " _ **But suffering of all kinds is nourishment for our master.**_ "

Hjalmar swung his blood-soaked fists around him like clubs. Wide and wild, he struck hoping that the daemon would end up within his reach, so he could silence the daemons eternal taunting by prying its jaw from its head.

Yet the daemon kept dancing out of his reach. The void-black beady eyes sunk into a sickening smug deep grin. A worm-thin tongue reached out and licked itself across a set of saw-toothed lips.

 _Keep smiling, keep laughing. It only makes my vengeance all the more satisfying._ Hjalmar told himself. _Short and small it may be, it´ll be right bloody sweet to see the light fading from your ugly eyes._

The laughter of the daemon grew from a hideous shriek of a thousand tortured voices, to cackle that screeched like a knife being scraped slowly against an uneven whetstone. The old wolf didn´t know why the daemonette started laughing the way it did, and he didn´t care, all he knew was that it made his warm blood boil.

Waving its hand like it was dismissing a servant, the daemonette sucked in a breath that was more of a soft moan. " _ **Gaze behind you, wolf**_."

Hjalmar didn´t listen to anything the daemon said. He only heard the sudden bang of a bolter, and Emma´s scream. His blood and hearts stopped, but his body moved faster than he had never known.

"For the Emperor." Emma´s sister said bitterly, the bolt gun still smoking from its barrel.

Leaning on her sword, Emma tried to stand up with blood running from her shattered knee.

" _By the Blood of the Hawk._ " The sisters gathered around Emma, all armed with flamers. The sun bright flames spilled on her like water. Her screams muffled by the heat of the tongues washing over her.

" _EMMA!_ " Hjalmar ran towards her, tears burning in his eyes.


	97. Chapter 94

The black rose chapter 94

The flames were all around her. Drowning her. Emma felt her flesh melting of her bones. She couldn´t see it. The fire had boiled her eyes away. Was she still standing? Were her fingers still clutching her sword? The bell was still ringing, but the ting was growing ever fainter. The scolding warmth that had suffocated her lungs with its burning air ebbed away. It felt cold, at first, but soon she felt nothing. She listened for the bell but was only meet by a terrifying silence.

By the cry of an infant, sight returned to her eyes in the light of a glittering crystal of grey silver in a depthless void. Though the light was small and faint, it was stung as if she had stared into the sun. She drifted towards the grey light, let herself sink towards it.

" _ **Don't.**_ " A voice that came from her head commanded. It was a powerful voice and soft voice. It had the presence to overpower kings and sooth the dying, but Emma ignored it.

The lone crystal became a hundred, and its light divided amongst them. Emma stopped, uncertain of where she should head. She could feel the presence of something in the darkness, something powerful and hungry. Her flesh-and-blood hand grasped for bolter and her phantom fingers held her sword, but Emma carried neither. _What am I to do?_

" _ **Close your eyes.**_ "

Staring hopelessly into hundred crystals, Emma searched for the source of the voice and what was lurking in the darkness.

" _ **Make haste, time is not your ally in this realm.**_ "

She blinked. When her eyes opened, Emma was standing on the edge of a stormy shore. Though she could feel neither the wind on her skin nor smell the salt of water, she saw the endless expanse of black, hollow ocean and waves that reached for the skies before collapsing into the trenches that gave rise to new colossal walls of water.

" _ **You have acted courageously, but it was not bravery that you drove you this time.**_ "

"Who are you? Show yourself."

" _ **You stand on at a crossroad, child.**_ " The voice was in her head and everywhere at once. The sheer might and power coming off every word dwarfed the volume that Hjalmar could produce with his roars, yet there was a kindness and pain to the voice. " _ **You can plunge yourself into the darkness again or come forth to face me. Prove your devotion, march on in pilgrimage and learn the truth.**_ "

There was only one being in the galaxy that could possess such a power. No other being could be placing her here. No one else could be putting her faith to this test. _The God-Emperor of Mankind. My Holy Lord._ Emma thought. "What do I have to do?"

" _ **Climb.**_ "

A soft light lifted Emma´s head. A light brimming with gold that sat on the top of a mountain. A mountain of ice, gold and flesh. Steps made for giants snaked a path up its side.

" _ **Make haste, lest you wish the decision to made for you.**_ "

The black waves brushed against her feet. The water stroked her like hands meekly trying to pull her down. A decision that was easy became urgent. Emma ran up the first step, grabbed the edge with her only hand and pulled herself over the edge. When she was over, a brutal pain suddenly stabbed her in the back. It disappeared as suddenly as it came. There was no time for her to ponder on it. Emma kept climbing. The steps were tall, taller than her. The edges on them were either soft and dull, making them slippery, or they where sharp to the point of razors. After she climbed each step, she felt a new pain. Some were sudden and faded as quickly as the first pain. Others were slow, the pain lingering until before suddenly fading.

She counted hundreds of steps. The skin on her palm was eventually stripped to the bone, leaving them bare and bloody. Her ribs long been broken by her slipping from one step. A breath was a stab. The panting for air she made were sword-strikes to her side.

" _ **Do you surrender?**_ "

"Never." Emma heaved herself over and edge dripping with blood fresh and old. "I suffered worse than this." She gazed up at the light. "You know I have. This trial is… it is not enough to stop me." She crossed another edge and felt a cold stab in her stomach and felt her guts spilling over her legs. "Nothing the gods can muster will stop me."

" _ **Your faith is strong, as it is your shield.**_ " The words he spoke carried the warmth of a father watching his daughter with an honest pride.

She continued the journey in silence. Encountering the bodies of those who failed. Their bodies stripped bare to bones that dissolved into ash by the gentlest grace of Emma´s hand. _My faith is pure for my will is strong. My will is strong for my faith is pure._ She repeated the mantra each time she climbed another edge, and felt her strength being stripped a little more with each one. _My faith is pure for my will is strong. My will is strong for my faith is pure._

The black waves where never far behind. She climbed each step with the waves breaching against the foot of it. Faces, screaming in agony and fear, formed by the foam of the water only to dissolve when the water pulled back.

 _Those who fall are not worthy._ Emma thought. _Those who rest for the moment lose the day._ She marched forward, blood dripping of her arm. Her feet leaving blood-soaked prints on the ground. _The will carries the body forward. If the mind is willing, the body will obey._

She could fell the warmth of the light now. It brushed ever so lightly against her skin. A graceful touch she did not reject. _It will not be long now, my son. The God-Emperor has answered my prayers and taken notice. He is has granted me my only wish, and soon, I will hold you in my arm and never let you go._

The light became warmer, like aura of a sun.

 _Just a few more steps_. Emma told herself as she wrenched from a pain that throbbed her head. _Just a few more._

Heaving herself over the final step, she felt the blade of sword splitting her from shoulder to chest. The blade lingered for what seemed like an eternity before being savagely withdrawn. Emma winced. The blade felt larger than it ever had before. She lied there, enduring the pain until she felt waves crashing softly against her. The screams of those in the water were louder than the waves breaching.

In a final effort, Emma climbed over the edge and kneeled before the Emperor at the peak of the mountain.

" _ **Rise child.**_ "

Emma obeyed his command.

" _ **Open our eyes.**_ "

They opened slowly, pried open for short moments before they jammed shut. When she finally managed push them open, she almost fell to her knees again. "God-Emperor of Mankind…"

He was a giant beaming with golden light. The face he showed her was bald, but sharp and beautifully sculptured. He showed a soft smile. " _ **You have proven your faith, child. The primordial truth shall be revealed to you.**_ "

Emma gasped in awe at the holy figure that stood so proud before her. In a moment that was so brief she barely noticed it, Emma forgot everything and just absorbed everything she could see about Him. He was the more than any artist could have imagined. A living effigy of human perfection, never aging and eternally divine. But this was only for a moment.

"Where is he?" Emma asked. "Where is my son?"

The Emperor´s smile died. " _ **The truth was promised.**_ "

"Where is _he?!_ " Emma stepped forward, defiantly as tears started building behind her eyes.

" _ **In a galaxy of war, numerous die painful deaths every second. You have added hundreds, yet you cared for one more than any other. You first touch with death.**_ "

" _Where?!_ "

A hand that made Hjalmar´s fists look small reached forward and lifted the tears of Emma´s cheeks without touching her skin. He turned his hand until the tears gathered in his palm. " _ **Your son is lost.**_ " Pain marred his voice. " _ **Like a single tear in an ocean.**_ " He turned his hand. The splash was drowned by the wails of the black water.

Emma fell. She sat still in the water with each wave reaching ever so slowly upwards. "Can´t be…" Tears rolled across her face in thick streams. _Is this all it amounted to? Is this the reward my faith? Is this my punishment?_

" _ **This is neither punishment, nor reward, child.**_ " The Emperor stepped forward, into the ocean. The black water swallowing his divine light. " _ **It is only the truth.**_ "

"Then why does it hurt?"

" _ **All truths are painful to behold when lies have been blanketing one's senses. Especially lies of one's own making and conviction. The bond they form is parasitic and corrupting but to remove their shackles brings new suffering.**_ "

Emma sank deeper, and the black water rose, swallowing her more with each approaching wave.

" _ **I do confess, it is a pain I am familiar with.**_ "

"How could you be?" Emma asked with her head hung. "How could know what it feels like?"

" _ **I too have suffered the pain of seeing what I have built and created to be made a lie of. I have seen it being ridiculed and destroyed.**_ " He paused, taking a slow step forward. " _ **I have lost sons to.**_ "

"They betrayed you." Emma vexed. "Alpharius, Fulgrim, Perturabo, Magnus, Lorgar, Mortarion, Angron, Konrad and the Arch-Traitor Horus himself. You didn´t fail them, they failed you."

The Emperor grunted softly, yet bitterly. Then he went silent for a moment. " _ **Do you submit yourself to the darkness?**_ "

Emma stared at her reflection in the water. Cast by the golden light of the Emperor but reflected in black of the brushing waves. "My son is gone. There is nothing left to do but letting the darkness take me."

" _ **Your sister.**_ "

The mirror image that Emma gazed into changed into the face of Johana as Emma remembered it. She smashed the image by a strike of her hand. "She tempted me and betrayed me. She is only a slave to the dark god Slaanesh."

" _ **And the old wolf of Fenris.**_ "

The image changed again. She saw Hjalmar´s bushy face and his mess of hair. His grey eyes hollow and dead. Blood dripped from his fangs. His decapitated head rested in the palm of a hand of iron. "What is this?" Emma´s hand trembled at the edge of the image, terrified of disrupting it.

" _ **A future that as yet to be.**_ " His said, taking a step close to Emma and kneeling. " _ **The old wolf will die, and his name will be forever remembered as a stain on his chapters honor. His brothers will make mockery of his name.**_ "

 _Hjalmar, you put so much faith and hope in me. All for nothing. All to bring you down with me. The Mad Wolf and the Foolish Palatine._ She hid her face from His sight again.

" _ **It is to be his fate, but it may not.**_ "

Emma looked up from her hand. "What can I do? What can I do to stop it?"

" _ **Swear your servitude to the truth, accept it and the power to stop it will be gifted to you.**_ " He offered His hand.

Emma lifted her hand but hesitated. "What is it that you offer? What will I become?"

" _ **I offer justice and retribution. I offer you to become a beckoner of the truth.**_ " He answered. " _ **You need only take my hand and show the truth.**_ "

"Is there no other choice?"

" _ **There is.**_ " He said. " _ **You need only refuse, and it will it cease forever. All that you are and have been will become nothing.**_ "

"Perhaps nothing is better than what I am." Emma´s arm lowered slightly.

" _ **Nothing isn´t greater or inferior to anything. Nothing means no pain, no suffering, no joy, no happiness, no light, no darkness. Nothing is only nothing.**_ "

Emma´s fingers shifted, her hand remained still. The waves splashed against her back, the breach of the waves stroking the back of her head.

" _ **The darkness will not wait for you, child.**_ "

Emma reached, and took his hand. __________


	98. Chapter 95

The black rose chapter 95

She was engulfed in flames but he didn´t care. Hjalmar ran through them; the fire burned the hairs of his arms and scorched his skin. The sisters poured more fire on her. Suddenly, the air gusted forward, sucked into a rising pillar of glowing white flame and black core. The pillar sunk, and a shockwave follow it. Hjalmar was thrown to the ground, his skinned back grinding against the rocky ground.

He clenched his teeth. His lungs were scolded with cinders and the taste of burning phosphor was on his tongue. Sight was a leaden mist. Breaths drew fire down his throat. Somehow, the old wolf found his footing and climbed to his feet. Water ran from his eyes, clearing his sight. As focus returned, he saw the results of the explosion.

An inferno of ebony flames encircled her. Snow-white, flickering edges coated the edges of the tongues. She stood at the center of it. Rivers of gold spilled from her head. The massive chainsword was firm in her metal hand. Wings, raven-black with shimmering crimson edges spread from her back, commanding the flames.

"Emma?" The name was painful to speak.

Eyes of blue silver meet his, dragged him years back. Awakening faded memories. He had only felt like this once before in his life. He took a step forward and kneeled with his knuckles to the smoking ground.

"Hjalmar…" She spoke with an understated power.

The old wolf raised his head, wanting to embrace her, but finding he couldn´t even lift a finger. He could only swallow a gust of ashen air.

" _ **Turn your back upon the enemy and you will have granted them the perfect chance to strike!**_ " Shrieked the deamonette as it leaped for Hjalmar. There was no chance for him to turn, he could only evade, as Emma struck with her wings.

The deamonette was pinned by the edge of the sleeping blade. Smoking blood dripped its side, were the teeth had bitten into it.

" _ **I am not the only one of my kind in this city.**_ "

"There can be a thousand more." Emma´s finger rested on the trigger. "You will only be the first." The blade growled at awakening and chewed through the daemon´s flesh and bones, splitting it from hip to shoulder.

Emma turned her gaze to the cultists. Frozen by fear, none dared move as Emma grasped her sword in both hands. Her wings carried her forward with a speed that made her body a shimmer. The Eviscerator, black and roaring, was all but invisible to Hjalmar´s eyes. He only followed its path by the ribbons of crimson that streaked from its point as it cut hungrily through any heretic or daemon that came within her reach. Death was quick and brutal by her hand. He could hardly phantom what was that happening.

 _Is this what they call a miracle? An intervention by the Allfather Himself? A saint chosen and crafted by His hand?_ He could ponder on it later. There was still a battle to be fought. " _FOR RUSS!_ " Hjalmar gusted for breath. " _AND THE ALLFATHER!_ "

He went into the fray, smashing skulls and breaking bones. The axe was long gone from his hand. He only had his fists, and they where more than adequate for the task. He punched heads of with closed fists and flung the bodies into the walls. Splattering blood and guts like sacks filled with wet sausages. Every muscle in his body was burning, his hearts pounded, but the old wolf roared in triumph.

Emma never uttered a single word. Though her face twisted by fury, every ounce of anger was expressed by the Eviscerator, the sword now having grown sleek with blood was chugging as bits of flesh clogged up its gears. Yet the strength and speed of Emma´s strikes where enough to break every bone in a mortal´s frame.

 _I would have a hard time standing after being struck by such strength, even if she was only welding a broken pipe._ He grinned.

They carved their way ever deeper into the city. The cultists seeming endless in their numbers. But for every cultist that went forth, Emma butchered it and the three standing behind it before they could even think. Though Hjalmar was never far from her, he was always behind her, picking up stragglers and those who where "lucky" enough to somehow be missed by her swing. For a second time, Hjalmar felt humbled by the power he beheld.

A beast leaped out at Hjalmar. It stood two times his height and had the limbs of a scorpion but covered by the scales of a snake. It pinned him to a wall with a strength he could not match. A slim, wormy tongue protruded from thin lips and wrapped around his neck.

"Mistake." Growled Hjalmar. He caught the tongue between his teeth and bit it of with a single snap. The daemon wailed in pain. Hjalmar felt its grip loosening. His fist ended up around the creature's throat, and he squeezed, slimy blood seeped through his fingers.

It screams were muted, but a multiple set mismatched eyes glared out at from folds of carapace. Its tail whipped, stricking for Hjalmar´s head.

He avoided it, but the edge of the whip like tail got a taste of his flesh. His neck started growing numb. He rammed his knee into the core of the fiend's body, feeling bones cracking. Once again, the daemon gave way, and Hjalmar took it. He locked both his hands around the creature´s neck and pulled. The fire that had been pumping through his arm was long gone. Replaced by the numbness of ice, he squeezed whatever blood he could from the fiend and let it wash over his arm, as if it would somehow melt the ice that had conquered his arms.

The creature stood up on two of its four legs, but Hjalmar refused to let go. When he felt the pinch of a claw around his chest, he lifted himself up and bit down into the creature's neck. The blood was thick, disgustingly bitter, but warm. He bit and chewed. Taking larger and larger chunks of flesh of with each bite. The pincer that was puncturing itself into Hjalmar´s chest disappeared, and the fiend was brought low. Digging his deep fingers into the daemon´s neck, the old wolf pulled of its head with a wet click.

" _Behold_!" Hjalmar held the head high with his dull arm, blood dripping from glistening flesh. " _See the worth of your beasts!_ "

He felt a stroke of warmth. Not on his arm, but from his back. Looking up, he saw Emma hovering softly above him. Her black wings swiping the air with grace and strength. The Eviscerator glistened with viscera.

"We are getting close." Emma landed gently next to him. "Close to the center of their ritual."

Hjalmar closed his eyes. "I can hear them." The screams inside his head were muted by the barriers he held, yet they send pierced his head when he listened for them. "There are great energies abound."

"Great daemons."

"Aye."

Emma showed a toothy grin. "Then let's not keep them waiting."

Numerous bickering riddles and biting questions ran around in his mind. Mingling with the invisible energies spilling into reality, they clogged his mind into a mist. A mist that he dispelled with a bark and a grunt. _I´ve got daemons to slay._

They went deeper into the hive. And the energies became stronger with every step. Blood started dripping from the walls. Thorns the size of fingers sprouted from the ground. The old wolf crushed them beneath his mechanical feet. Emma hovered mere inches above them, her wings ever so gently stroking. The air soon grew thick and warm. The old wolf´s sense of smell was clouded by nauseating perfumed scents. He coughed up mouthfuls of thick, discolored flehm whose stench was so sour it almost overpowered everything around him.

"Don´t stop, Hjalmar." Emma said without looking back at him.

Hjalmar scoffed. "If they want me to stop, they´re gonna have to tear my chest open and tear both my hearts out."

"What if they did?"

"They can try," Hjalmar laughed with a dry throat. "Like so many others have."

"And they will." Emma´s wings made a powerful swoop, sending her up to a gargoyle several stories above them. She perched like predator and made the Eviscerator growl bitterly, as if the weapon was disappointed at not biting into flesh every time she teased it. She pointed the weapon forward and leaped. Her black wings cutting through the thick air and Eviscerator snarling hungrily.

 _Aaaaaaaaoooooouuuuuuu!_

Hjalmar howled as he headed after her. The pain of his wounds was stripped from his mind. The toxin that had been surging through his veins, spreading its ice finally melted as a new wave of boiling blood ran through his veins. Most of his muscles were set aflame underneath his skin, but those muscles that had been frozen melted as if molten metal was being pumped through them.

 _This is what I was born for. This is what I was created for._ His hearts drummed with a pace he had not enjoyed for a long time. As he entered the center of the ritual, his senses were blinded to everything but the enemy right before him. They were cultist, mutants, heretics. They were every impurity with mankind made flesh. And he was spending every ounce of his violent being to purge them from the city.

A roaring, thundering laugh escaped his lungs. Electrical tingles danced across his brain. He remembered every traitor and xenos whose life he had claimed, every brother he had trained. That was the way of the Adeptus Astartes mind. Crafted to remember everything from his first breath reborn to the last beat of his hearts. He remembered every feast and victory his brothers had enjoyed, but he could never remember the sensation of blood being pumped feeling as exhilarating. He could never remember breaths, though tasting of corruption, ever stocking the fire in his chest with such force.

 _This is isn´t vengeance._ Hjalmar pulled the heart out of a heretic. _This is isn´t wrath. This isn´t joy. This is something beyond both. Something grander._ He stared into the eyes of a terrified woman with multiple sets of breasts. _And I don´t care what it is._

Emma soared beyond the old wolf. Her sword cutting through the sea of flesh on the ground, disregarding what or who was killed in its path. Spotting beasts or daemons of larger girth, she would make a pause to leap into the air and come down with the sword roaring. Notorious for their speed and agility brought on by their twisted master, the daemons would leap out of the path of brutal swing, to be meet by a savage grin as Emma made the gentlest of sweeps with her wings to catch them with her blade.

" _ **Acolyte.**_ " The voice had the edge of arrogance Hjalmar had grown all to accustomed to by the daemons of Slaanesh, but the sheer magnitude of it was almost enough to damper the heat boiling his blood. Emma looked up, and Hjalmar´s gaze followed. Even with its hunched posture, it was a daemon of towering size. Elegant in every movement of its numerous limbs, but measured in its steps, the daemon stepped forth. " _ **Lower your weapon and join your sister.**_ "

"What is your name, _daemon_?"

" _ **You know your kind carries many names.**_ "

"What is you name?" Emma´s fingers adjusted around the grip of the weapon.

" _ **Avrine.**_ " The daemon answered. " _ **My name is Avrine.**_ "

"There is another name." Emma´s eyes narrowed. Her wings making slight shifts. "A name you will take back to your master. Say it, and this will be done."

The daemon held a sword in on of its hands and a thorny, scaled whip in the other. Its other two hands were empty of visible weapons, but the talons in one hand grew as the other started making movements, shaping the air.

" _Say it._ "

The daemon twisted its hand, flinging a massive globe of purple fire at Emma. In response, she planted the sword in pavement, its teeth digging in. The fire consumed her. The scent of burning fat cut into Hjalmar´s nose.

Cutting through the flames and shooting forward with a blinding speed, Emma charged. Hjalmar blinked, and the Eviscerator was grinding against the daemon´s crystal blade. The force of Emma´s impact had visibly pushed Avrine back.

In a pair of giant, opal shaped eyes, Hjalmar saw Emma´s face reflected in the floating darkness. Though her skin was burned the black, he could still see a wrath twisting her features.

" _SAY IT!_ " Emma hammered her sword, cracking the scolded skin on her arms as the Eviscerator sprayed sparkles from Avrine´s blade with every strike. One of the daemon´s many arms pulled back and the whip leaped. Striking without a crack, the thorny whip wrapped around Emma´s neck. Strangling her was only to option to a fool, and no daemon would ever be taken for one. Rather, Avrine flung the whip, with Emma by the end of it, against the ground.

Bones cracked into horrible positions and broke through skin, but Emma stood with both feet on the ground. Her machine arm still held the sword, but the flesh-and-blood and held the whip and stretched it. Blood spilled from her fingers, her neck and her broken legs. Yet, Avrine eye´s betrayed a horrified amazement.

"Say…. It." Emma said with heavy breaths and spilling blood from her mouth.

The daemon was frozen for a blink, then its lips peeled back, showing its dense rows of needle like teeth. " _ **What did he do?!**_ " The question was wrought with wrath, but Hjalmar could hear the terror being masked beneath.

Emma yanked the whip closer and let the Eviscerator chew through it. Blood sprayed as the chainswords teeth bit. Once she was free, Emma took a hold of the whip close to her neck, and pulled herself free, producing another torrent of fresh blood in the process. She raised her leg and bones snapped back into the place by invisible, brutal hands. Her wounds were left open. The flesh smoking, but slowly healing.

"Say. It."

With the hands of an artist, Avrine wrapped what remained of it´s whip around its cracked crystal sword. Uttering some words in a tongue Hjalmar could never comprehend, and with a final stroke along the sword, the blade and the whip fuzzed to become a blade of a thousand thorns and dozens of mismatched eyes. The purple metal it was crafted from seemed more liquid than solid, and the eyes would open and shut only to reform somewhere else on the blade. " _ **I will seal your soul in this blade, along with the thousands this weapon has already collected.**_ "

Emma scoffed. "Strike then, if you are so certain."

Dashing with a lethal speed, Avrine struck at Emma with the sword.

She made no effort to dodge. Rather she caught the thorny blade with her toothed sword. The strike sent her to the ground again. A blood ran from her clenched teeth. She trembled while she kept the sword at bay.

Avrine birthed a smirk. The daemon moved neither hand nor arm, but the blade snaked around Emma´s sword and pierced into her back. Visibly stripping flesh and bone from her being. " _ **The Prince will savor the taste of your souls.**_ "

Emma´s flesh-and-blood hand opened, releasing Avrine´s blade and letting it fall as she sidestepped. With the Eviscerator still clutched in her metal hand, Emma slashed at the daemon´s knee and touched Avrine´s skin with her flesh-and-blood hand.

The daemon cried out in agony. Flames, black and vengeful, traveled from the point Emma´s hand touched and ran up the daemon´s flesh. The scolding white tongues peeled of the of skin and blackened the meat beneath. Trying to brush the flames of only made them spread faster. In a few moments, Avrine was complete coated by the ebony flames.

"Say it!" Emma shouted as Avrine fell to its knees. She clutched the daemon´s head in her hand, cracking the stalk like horns that protruded from Avrine´s head. "Say _it!_ " Emma´s fingers sunk slowly into the daemon´s melting skull. " _Say it!_ "

Whatever name the daemon screamed, Hjalmar couldn´t be certain. But he would always remember the ear-piercing noise Avrine made.

" _ **Aaauuuureeeeeeellll!**_ "

Emma´s face twisted further with rage. Her flesh-and-blood hand closed into a fist, cracking Avrine´s head like an overripe fruit. The scolded remains of the daemon fell limbless to the ground.

Standing still for several moments, Emma stared at the remains with scorn in her eyes.

Hjalmar approached her. "Emma…"

She looked up. A veil of smoking ash clouding her face, though Hjalmar could see the hate, the rage, but beneath it, the old wolf could see a hint of a smile.

Hjalmar cast a glance at Avrine´s headless body, and stared back at Emma, his sight almost completely enraptured by her wings and the crimson light that reflected in the edge of each feather. "Terminator-Slayer is far to soft of a title for you."

Emma smiled and laughed. "I don´t care for titles." Her smile faded. A single, small tear rolled down check.

"Doesn´t matter whether you care or not, you´ll be given them anyway."

Turning to the sound of approaching tanks, Hjalmar saw what he could only assume to be every Sister of the Hawk on the planet approaching them. _They probably won´t keep that name for very long._ Though every sister´s face was hidden behind their helms, Hjalmar could practically sense the reverence for what they saw. Two commanders stepped forth. One carrying a still smoking heavy bolter in her hands, the other carrying no weapon beyond two withdrawn claws at her wrists. The bolter was dropped, and Galatea removed her helm. Sophia followed quick suit.

"Emma?" Sophia asked in complete disbelief.

"You spat in her face." Hjalmar stepped in front of her. "Didn´t you?"

Sophia hastily got to her knees. "Forgive me." She begged. "I did not see. I did not know."

Galatea mimicked the gesture, but with comparably more grace. "Emma, Blessed Vessel and Saint of the Emperor of Mankind."

Every Sister of the Hawk feel to their knees before Emma, praying and tanking the Emperor for the blessing they saw.

"Hail Emma!" Hjalmar shouted. "Hail the Blackfire Saint!"

" _Hail!_ " The Sisters chanted. " _Hail._ "

Hjalmar turned back to Emma. "Hail the Blackfire Saint." Just as he was about to kneel, he heard a laugh. It came from Emma. She laughed again. And again. And again. The laugh was cackling, hoarse and unrelenting. She kept laughing uncontrollably longer than her once mortal lungs would have allowed. Eventually, she bend over and gasped for breaths in between spams of hysteria. To the sisters' eyes, it seemed insane. Their saint looked twisted by a horrifying madness. Only the old wolf could see the pain that hid in Emma´s eyes. 


	99. Chapter 96

The black rose chapter 96

 _Blessed is the mind too small for doubt._ Emma thought. _A naïve truth mixed with sweet ignorance._ She could think of numerous more ways to tear the saying apart. She recited more and more mantras that had been battered into her mind over the years. Lessons meant to protect and steel the mind from impurity. One that almost sent her into another fit of laughter was the saying she had taken before they started their climb of the Capital.

" _What is your duty?_ " They asked.

" _To serve the Emperor´s will._ "

" _What is the Emperor´s will?"_

" _That we fight and die._ "

" _What is death?_ "

" _It is our duty._ " But there was one of them that still held true above them all; _knowledge is power, guard it well._

Her fist clenched around the Eviscerator. Her skin was scolded and blood seeped from black crusts, but it was healing. Bones, broken where kept in place by the power she had accepted as the muscles carefully reattached themselves.

"Emma?" Hjalmar´s thick, brusque voice asked.

She opened her eyes and presented the old wolf with a smile. "No, not Emma. Not anymore." She gazed across her sisters, still like an army of statues. She looked at Sophia and Galatea, and nearly burst into laughter a second time. "I am the Blackfire Saint of Prostoru." Though she used a soft voice for speaking, every sister from the Palatines before her to the young, un-bled initiates in the back could hear her clearly.

"A thousand prayers in your name, Holy, Blackfire Saint." Sophia had her hands clutched in prayer before Emma. "Please, grant me absolution for my sins. I was blind to the God-Emperor´s will. My sorrow and regret know no bounds, I need only be told what is needed for salvation and the task will be completed."

Emma tensed herself, straining against the urge to laugh again. "Absolution. Forgiveness." Bitterness scourged through her. She felt the urge to drop the weapon, take Sophia´s cheeks in her hands and tear her head off. "Your salvation lies in oblivion."

"My Saint," Sophia dared look up for a mere moment. "What do you mean?"

It was wretched. How they could walk around blind, even to the harsh brightness of the sun. But in the end, it would make no difference.

"Those are the words brought to me by the God-Emperor of Mankind." Emma said. "I simply speak His will. It is for you to see the sight He his showing."

"Yes, my Holy Saint." Sophia took another bow. "Forgive me."

"I too have a question." Galatea rose. She stared into Emma´s eyes with her mismatched ones.

"Palatine of the Tail, seems your faith was not misplaced." Emma grinned. "What is your question?"

Galatea tried to bring back the wall she had so carefully made, to hide her emotions and keep them from everyone. But when Emma saw her own eyes reflected in Galatea´s, the reflection was blurred and trembling in ways only she and Hjalmar would see. A mere brush would be enough to break it.

"What is our next move?" Galatea blurted the question.

"You mean in the purging of our planet?"

"Yes."

Emma spread her wings wide, stroking the air and displaying a mirage of red in the black feathers. She hovered gently above the ground, pushing warm waves of forward with each stroke. "We are going to cut the snake at its tail, making it reach out to strike so we can cut its head of. One strike, followed by a brutal cut." Her fingers flexed around the Eviscerator.

"As the Emperor wills it." Galatea bowed with a watery eye and soft legs. "And what about this city?"

Emma picked the crystal sword from a veil of ashes. The numerous eyes had closed, though the metal still shifted as if they it made of mercury. "This city is tainted. The heretics, traitors and mutants may have scurried away, but like rats, they are only scurrying away from the light. The moment we turn our backs they will return, spreading their corruption like a plague." A viscous grin appeared on Emma´s lips. "It will not be long before the infection takes old again."

No one spoke for they all knew what she was going to say.

"We have burned of the skin, but the rotten flesh remains." Emma stabbed the Eviscerator into the ground and raised the crystal sword. "Only one thing will stop this infection." She wrapped her flesh-and-blood hand around the blade and drew the blade back like she drew her sword from their scabbards. Flames of black followed in the path of her hand. "Sacred flames born from holy promethium."

" _Fire purges. Fire cleanses._ " The sisters chanted. Sophia joined them. Galatea said nothing. The old wolf remained where he was but could barely stand.

"Come, my sisters!" Sophia shouted. "Let us purge this city. Let us purify it of its taint, so that it may be reborn in the light of the Emperor´s flames as our Saint has!"

Emma snickered. There was no point in hiding it from Hjalmar, and she didn´t care what anyone else heard or saw. It didn´t matter. The sisters where already mowing forth, pouring burning promethium through the city, heating the air into a dizzying blur. The scent of it felt strangely different to her now.

 _Everything smells different now. Everything sounds different. Everything looks different._ She squeezed crystal blade with her flesh-and-blood hand. Listening to the sound of the edge cutting through flesh and biting into bone. _Only pain is the same._ She laughed again, silently.


	100. Chapter 97

The black rose chapter 97

For the first time in a millennium, the Capital was once again graced by the presence of a living saint. She descended from the sky, parting clouds grey and soft. Though she made no parade nor foretelling of her arrival, the people threw themselves down, weeping and praying before the Blackfire Saint as she gently settled down in front of the cathedral. They wept as they stared at her. Clad in only simple robes, Emma still carried her Eviscerator though another blade was sheathed at her side.

Smiling sadly, Emma set the chainsword out before her and spread her wings as the populace howled with religious fervor.

"Holy Saint, descended from the heavens." A priest said, his eyes shielded by a hood. A silver feather hanged around his neck, reflecting her aura. "You who blesses us with a presence we cannot be worthy of, I humble ask for your name."

"My name?"

The priest nodded. "Your name is needed for the stories and scrolls that will be filled about you. If you would allow it, I would take on the unbelievable honor to be the one who writes first text about you. I need only your name and I will start."

Emma reached forward. The priest flinched visibly in fear, but she still took the silver feather hanging around his neck in her flesh-and-blood hand. "This feather, it is not befitting of your rank. Why do you have it?"

"My Saint, it is true that this my feather is traditionally worn by men below me, but you see I gave the original feather of silver and gold to my brother." The priest replied. "He went into serve on the front lines during the siege for crimes he committed." He smiled nostalgically though there was sorrow in his voice. "A small crime with a cruel punishment."

Emma blinked, recalling a distant memory. "Was he your true brother? Your blood-brother?"

"He was, my Saint. Though I haven´t seen him since the siege, I still pray every day that he might be alive somewhere. It is not the first time he has disappeared, he always has been in the habit of drinking and disappearing for days on end, but I must admit the chances seem to be growing ever dimmer."

"Your brother is dead." Emma said.

The priest looked up in shock for a brief moment. "Are you certain? Oh, who am I asking, of course you are. But it is good to know for certain." He nodded assuredly. "May I ask if you know how he died?"

Emma took step forward, and the priest shuddered backwards. She leaned in close, so he had no choice but to look into her eyes. His eyes watered and his sight trembled. "I am Emma, former Palatine of the Talons. Hjalmar, the wolf of Fenris has given me the name of Blackfire Saint." She closed her hand around the feather. "And your brother died by my hand." Once she opened her hand, the liquid silver dripping from her palm.

* * *

The High Lords gathered before her. All in awe, all silent and all terrified. They knew well who they faced, what they had condemned her to, and had heard about what she could do. Only Conrad remained stalwart, at least to those who looked at his back.

"Emma." He said, calm and formal.

"Conrad. You sentenced me to death." She stepped forward, her naked feet gently smacking against the cold marble.

The Supreme Judge held his ground. "I acted in accordance with my duty."

"Your duty is the Emperor and the Imperium, are you saying that it was your duty to sentence me to death?"

"My judgement was one based on what I knew. The Emperor made His own judgement of you, and I can see he did not find you wanting."

She stretched her wings out, displaying the black feathers with crimson edges for all to see in their splendor. She smiled, though not for the reasons the High Lords suspected. "He granted me a great many things. I discovered more than I thought possible. Knowledge precious few are permitted to, and he granted me abilities even our greatest warriors can only dream of. It was far from simple. Lesser minds would have broken upon what I endured."

To answer the question she knew was coming, Emma said. "For one cannot break what is already broken. It can only be put back together, harder and stronger." Emma laughed. "I stand before you, Lords of Prosturo to bring you the Emperor´s will. I am an instrument of His wrath, a tool for His war against the traitors to His glorious and eternal Imperium." She raised the Eviscerator high, she would only need to relax her arm and the sword would come crashing down the Supreme Judge´s head.

Conrad remained unmoving, fully aware of the danger he was putting himself in.

Emma lowered her gaze and stared into Conrad´s eyes. He flinched, but for a single moment. _More afraid of shame than death?_

The sword fell. Conrad closed his eyes and tensed. They opened slowly to find the teeth of the Eviscerator softly touching his head.

Her finger rested on the trigger. A slight press is all it would take, and the sword would tear through his skull before he could even think about what happened. "Are you afraid?" Emma asked.

"No. I do not fear death. I have seen it more times than most in this room."

Emma lifted the sword. She took another step closer to the Supreme Judge. "Then you are either foolish or mad. I know what awaits, and you should fear it more than me."

"Regardless of what comes, I shall face it with devotion and love to the God-Emperor of Mankind."

 _Always the simple thing to retreat to._ "It is true, we fight for the Emperor, and He is on your side. By His will, we will succeed in our goal."

"And what is your goal?"

The snide remark from Conrad enlisted a sneer from Emma. "I will bring this war to an end, in just two directed strikes. One strike to remove the fangs dripping venom into our planet, spreading corruption and taint. The strike shall come from the sky, it will be swift and simple."

"And what about the second strike?" Conrad made no effort to hide dissatisfaction with her answer.

"The second strike will be against the core of the corruption. Vexed and temped, my sister will attack us directly." Emma smirked. "She will face us with full force, bringing every traitor marine, cultist and daemon she can summon to the fold."

The faces of the commanders and nobles gathered became pale. Emma knew it and expected it.

Conrad was the first to speak. "How do you except us to stop such a brutal force? We are struggling to keep them at bay as it is, we can´t take them in an open battle."

"You can." Emma stretched her wings, making a short stroke to make her hover just above the ground. "And you will. I will command my sisters, the wolf of Fernis will be at my side, the guardsmen will do their part through means of tanks and firepower." _And sheer numbers._ "You will have every capable solider in training brought to front and everyone else ready to pick up their rifles once they fall." Her gaze locked to the mechanicus Arch-Magos. Though his face had been made machine, his eyes turned into lenses and his mouth replaced with a grill, she could still feel the fear in the remains of his organic brain hidden deep beneath hood. "And you… you will double the forces you have provided."

"We have already provided all the troops we have available." Tarian objected.

Eyes of blue silver narrowed. "You will do as I command, for the sake of your forge-world."

"As it is the will of the Saint." Tarian said, begrudgingly.

 _And Emperor, of course._ "Now we shall prepare for the first strike."

"What is it that you need of us, Saint?" Garius Lup was the one who spoke.

"Of you, I need you to act, prepping troops and make ready for war the likes of which this planet hasn´t seen since the Horus Heresy. Of you, Garius, I need only a ship, armed with deathstrike missiles and cogitators to broadcast across an entire hive."


	101. Chapter 98

The black rose chapter 98

The ship was silent as tomb. Only the engines made any noise. All crew members remained silent as they passed Hjalmar in the great hall of the ship. Even the sisters prayed in silence at their altar. The Saint had secluded herself in her hall. None dared come near.

"Hjalmar." The Palatine of the Tail greeted him.

"Galatea." He nodded. "Are you finished praying?"

"For myself and my company." She leaned against the wall next to Hjalmar. "What do you know of Emma´s plan?"

"As much as any other sister here."

Galatea made a small curse.

"If you want to know," Hjalmar said. "You´d best go ask her yourself."

"My wits would be duller than Sophia´s if I tried to do that."

A musk of fear caught Hjalmar´s nose. "Are you afraid of her?"

"Emma is divine. She is the Emperor´s might made flesh. Her power goes beyond me, you and every single warrior on this ship." Galatea´s machine eye buzzed as it adjusted focus. "Of course, I am afraid of her. And you should be too."

"Why?" Hjalmar raised a bushy brow. "You said it yourself, she´s the saint of your order. Living proof of the Allfather´s might."

"I know. But how can that be true when she laughed in mockery at the act of us honoring her? When we bowed down to swear our loyalty to her, why did she burst into fits? Tell me, Hjalmar, does that befit a vessel of the Emperor´s will?"

"Because that laughter was no mockery of any kind."

"Then what was it?" Galatea´s voice took on a commanding tone.

"I don´t know."

Galatea stepped out in front of him. She looked at him unafraid, only harsh bitterness in her flesh eye. "I think you do."

"And you´ll keep thinking." Hjalmar stepped away from the wall and left Galatea in the great hall.

* * *

He stood before the door to her chambers. Two Sisters of the Talons guarded the door with bolters in hand and swords at their side. He put his hand on the door, and both sisters raised their bolters in perfect unison.

Hjalmar sniffed. "I recognize your scents." He said. "You stood complacent as your palatine was drowned in flames."

A moment of hesitation passed. Both weapons sunk slowly, before the sisters returned to their previous formation. Hjalmar opened the door, smiled to himself, and found Emma by the observation window of her chamber, overlooking the planet below, her hair running in rivers of fiery gold down her back and spilling across her black wings.

"My saint." Hjalmar kneeled.

She turned and a chuckle escaped Emma´s lips. For a moment, the old wolf suspected she might burst into laughter again. He looked up at her. The aura and presence that projected of her was a near overpowering force on his mind, as if he was staring into a sun.

"Rise, Hjalmar." Emma beckoned him up.

His artificial knees pushed him awkwardly up. Though he had long since lost interest in such things, the old wolf felt as if he was looking at the most beautiful woman in the galaxy. "You radiate like the Allfather."

"How do you know?"

"I don´t. I just believe."

She laughed this time. "Of course, you do."

"And why shouldn´t I?" Hjalmar asked. "I saw you burn. I saw the flames charring your flesh. I heard your bones cracking by the heat. I´ve seen my own brothers dying from less. But then you rose from the flames, ruling them with your black wings."

"Wings of a raven." Emma remarked.

Hjalmar took a pause. "Wings of black and red."

"Will make for a good story won´t it?" Emma´s wings spread; the crimson edges shimmered like rubies reflecting the light of flames. A smirk hung on her lips. "A lying whore, fighting against everyone who wouldn´t believe her, betrayed and sentenced to death, finally returned a saint."

"Do you want me to tell it?"

"I want you to remember it." A smirk became a half-smile. "As it truly was. Because the rest wont."

"I can see it, my Saint."

Emma vexed when he called her saint for a second time. "See what?"

"The pain." Hjalmar said. "I can see the pain beneath your eyes. You try to reflect it, hide it, but you can´t hide it from me."

"Do you think I was ever so stupid as to believe I could hide it from you?"

"You hid the loss of your son from your sisters. From me. From everyone apart from one."

Emma broke her gaze from the old wolf. "And you know why I did it."

"I do." Hjalmar took another step forward. "But you didn´t laugh when you revealed it."

"I laughed once at it. A long time ago." Emma stared out the observation window, down at a massive hive city. Hjalmar followed her. "What do you see?"

"Molncel." Hjalmar answered. "The city where you earned the title of Terminator-Slayer."

"It is a monument to greatest my mistake. And the Inquisitor´s."

"What are you talking about?"

"We stand were the roads crossed, Hjalmar." Emma leaned forward with a closed fist on her forehead. "Were simple choices created brutal consequences."

"Stop talking in riddles, Emma."

"The Inquisitor discovered my secret. He knew what I hid." She closed her eyes and drew a pained breath. "No, he thought he knew. And he tried to use it to keep me under his thumb."

"He was a bloody bastard." Hjalmar cursed. "Same as all of his kind."

"I scared him off," Emma added. "Once he understood what had happened, he backed off." She turned to Hjalmar. "I guess that makes him a coward." The old wolf stared into her eyes, shimmering and reflecting. "And mad to boot?"

The old wolf tried to look away from the visions that he saw in the Saint´s blue eyes. He closed his eyes and remained still as statue. He could hear Emma step forward. He could hear her heart pounding softly in front of him. "Hjalmar, open your eyes." She commanded.

Slowly and painfully, he opened them and found his own tears answered by tears slowly trickling down Emma´s checks. But she was still there, in Emma´s silvery eyes. Her own eyes, devoid of life and emotion stared through his own. Terrified, Hjalmar stumbled and collapsed to the floor but did not look away. "Why?" He asked. "Why are you showing me this?"

"Because you cannot escape it. You tried to reflect it, deny it. You build a castle around yourself. But it is a castle of glass, broken by the slightest touch of the _truth_." A single tear dropped from her chin and smacked onto the floor.

He endured it. She was long dead, her blood was thick on his hands, along with the blood of all his brothers. _I am sitting on a throne made of the bones from her, her sisters and my brothers._ The vision never left Emma´s eyes. "Why are your weeping?"

Emma kneeled. "What am I, Hjalmar?"

"You are Emma. You are the Blackfire Saint. You are the Allfather´s will manifested. You are proof of His might and strength."

Her eyes finally closed. Her wings folded around her. She shook her head.

He wasn´t sure why he did it, perhaps some old reflex, or if it was the sheer aura of Emma´s presence drawing forth a dangerous curiosity, regardless the old wolf raised his hand to touch her, comfort her. He caught himself and was about to lower his hand when Emma´s machine arm reached out and took him by the wrist. Guided by her arm, Hjalmar´s hand reached, and Emma rested her cheek in his palm. Though warm tears ran down her face, Emma´s skin felt cold to touch, but his mind felt something else. Something hot, like an inferno beyond anything he could phantom.

"I am only proof of one thing, Hjalmar. The Emperor´s folly, and my own."

 _But you were never a fool._ He wanted to say. He wanted to tell her that she was talking lies to him and herself. But none of that escaped his lips. Only a question. "What have you become?"

Emma opened her eyes. "A beckoner of truth and an avatar of death, as ugly and painful as both will ever be." She stared out the window again.

He carefully rubbed his thump against her cheek, wiping her tears. "What is that city?"

Emma pulled his arm closer. "It is a city full of heretics. A city putrid with corruption." Her grip tightened. "It is the first strike."


	102. Chapter 99

The black rose chapter 99

The stars always felt so small. Diamonds twinkling in the sky, far, far beyond the reach of Serena´s grasp. As a girl she wanted to pluck them from the sky. Her mother quickly smacked her for being so dumb as to believe that something like that could be done. Serena started of crying about it, but when she discovered what the stars where, masses of gas being burned to plasma with heat that couldn´t be matched by anything in the galaxy, her dreams felt incredibly childish.

Serena grinned. Because her old plans were as distant as those stars. She would do it soon. The young general was being prepared though he hardly knew why. He didn´t seem to show much care. The child she was carrying was always a concern that trumped all others for him. It suited Serena all the better. She would claim that the general had been a prisoner of one the Inquisitor´s agents. He had been seized the moment the Inquisitor made an attempt on the Cardinal´s life, but Serena had, of course, refused to leave his side. The agent had taken her back to her home city and forced her into becoming a prisoner in her own house.

 _And who would this agent be?_ Serena thought smugly. _But my dear, loving mother, ever power hungry and eager to seize power of the planet._

It sounded flawed but Serena knew how to fill out the details. _He had his tongue removed to be unable to tell the truth, but I discovered it eventually. The Inquisitor had given my mother an STC as a bargaining chip, and bribe to keep my mother at his side._

Serena toyed with soft curl of her hair, laughing at how well things had shaped up for her. With just some tearful words, she would be the lord general´s bride to be and not long after that, the angel would show itself for a second time.

 _What comes after… will be up to me._ She doubted that the angel would give her what she desired just for this. It didn´t matter. The angel was only a small step on a longer journey. Before long, she would effectively have rule over the whole world, and her child would be a sacrifice to the god the angel was beckoning for.

 _It will be beyond bloody. Bodies numerous and endless would pile up in the streets. Blood will be running thick through the sewers, but it doesn´t matter._

That night, she was walking down the halls of her house, Corvey constantly at her side, holding her arm.

"It will not be long, my general." Serena said. "Our child will soon enter the world and we will see you returned to the Capital."

Corvey leaned forward and kissed her. He smiled and opened his mouth ever so slightly, showing the stump that was his tongue.

Though Serena had never thought much of the way young general looked, his missing tongue was of particular distain to her eyes. Small and red, it would move and twitch horribly inside his mouth, looking like a worm being cut in half, twitching and turning before it would finally bleed out.

"You look stunning, my general."

He made some kind of grasping noise.

Serena smiled and kissed him again. "It won´t be long, my love." She put his hand on her stomach, making sure he could feel the child kicking. For a brief moment, Serena felt content, knowing the road before her was soft with the corpses of a thousand sacrifices.

They walked out onto the balcony. Corvey stared up at stars above, while Serena had her eyes resting on the city before her.

Suddenly, vox-hailers cracked to life all over the city. These instruments numbered on the thousand upon thousand. Hailing citizens to perform their daily prayers to the God-Emperor of Mankind, or warning the populace to stay within their homes during curfews. These were usually spoken by a tired, passionless speaker or a zealous, mad preacher. The voice that spoke from the vox-hailer was neither.

" _Citizens of Molncel."_

Serena almost lost her feet at the sound of the voice. _It can´t be. It can´t be her._

" _I am the Blackfire Saint. I have watched you for a long time. I have seen your hedonism. Your heresy. And I have become wrathful at the sight of it._ "

She clutched the balcony´s rail in a cold panic. _The Palatine of the Talons. Emma._

" _Fear not. For I am not a saint of rage. You need only sleep soundly in your beds for the night. Redemption shall fall upon you at first light._ "

She heaved for breaths as if two hands where wrapping around her neck. She expected Corvey to notice, to help her, but when she turned to the young general, she found him collapsed on the floor next to her. Nurses and serfs soon came rushing. Serena tried to explain the danger they all found themselves in but was only able to produce faint gasps. She would have struggled from their grips and ran for herself, but her bulging stomach made even the lightest sprint exhausting at the best of times. She quickly found herself in bed, being tended to by serfs while she struggled to reclaim breath. Though her throat was dry, Serena felt warm moisture between her legs. A searing pain quickly followed.

* * *

He woke alone. The city was gone and all with it. Corvey opened his mouth to speak and was only able to produce a hoarse gasp. The ground below his feet felt hard and cold. He laid his hands on it and pressed his face close, hoping to see something in the darkness.

 _Where am I?_ Terror took his mind. A thousand more questions ran across his thoughts. Was this hell? Was this the reckoning for his sins?

"I am sorry." A woman´s voice said. It did not belong to Serena, nor any of the serfs that attended him. The young general lifted his head and was meet by an angel ascending with red-edged, black wings.

"I am sorry." She apologized again. Her voice was as soft as Serena´s skin, yet there was a power to every word that went unstated. A dull grey light glowed from her divine being, coating the rivers of gold that flowed from her head in a beautiful aura.

Baffled, terrified and awestruck all at once by the sight Corvey tried to form the words to ask her why. Why was he worthy of this sight? What marked him as a man descent enough for the Emperor´s sight? He opened his mouth to ask these questions. He only rasped.

The angel smiled a warm smile. "I am sorry for what you do not know." She said. "I am sorry for what little you have left."

Corvey looked at her gasping. Without his order, one of his hands raised itself and she let it gently rest on her palm. The sheer power he felt coursing from her hand into his, running through his veins made his heart flicker like autumn leaf caught in an early winter wind.

"Though you will suffer because of it, you deserve to know." She kneeled and took his head in her free hands. She stared with eyes of blue silver. "Look into my eyes, General. Look into my eyes. and see the truth."

It came and was over in an instant. Then he wanted to scream. Despite the angel holding him, the young general collapsed. He laid trembling. The warmth that she had sent through his body with her touch seemed long gone, now it had all transformed into a terrifying cold. He knew it all. He knew of Serena´s plans and what she had done. He knew all of it, yet it was all dwarfed by one realization. _She doesn´t love me…_

The angel placed a gentle, cold hand on his head. "She never did."

 _My father never loved me. My mother never gave a second look. And my sister… I never even knew my sister. I have nothing. I am nothing. I was born nothing._

Her soft hand lifted his chin, forcing his eyes back onto her gaze. "But you can be become something. Something greater than your father."

He could hardly believe it. He almost wanted to laugh into her face. How could anything of the sort be true? How could a man less than nothing become something?

"The one who has nothing still has their life to give."

It was a mantra all to familiar to the young general. If was alive, he could still act. If his heart was still beating, he could fight. Still he felt a shiver at what she said. _Is this what He wants?_

"Seize this moment, General." The angel said. "Command your life for once before it ends."

 _Angel…_ Corvey grabbed the robes on her armor. _I beg of you, tell me what it is I must do. Give me clarity and the courage to perform His will._

"Only you can summon both." The angel said.

 _Please._ He pleaded, crying into the cloth. _Grant me a sign._

"I am your sign." The angel´s voice became what may have only been slightly vexed when measured by the standards of her kin, but when heard by a simple mortal, the anger in her voice sounded ruthlessly bitter.

 _She never loved me. And neither did He. But one person could._ Corvey suddenly realized what it was that she asked for. _How could I have it in me?_

"When you stand on the edge of oblivion, you discover what lies beyond it. You may not like what you find, but it will determine what you are made of." She placed a hand on his black hair. Her fist closing around the strands and pulling his head back, forcing him to stare into her eyes once again. "Your father never loved you, it's true. Neither did Serena. They where both using you as a simple tool for their petty games. There is a greater force calling on you now. Will you be what your father thought of you?" Her fist clenched, painfully tugging at the hairs at the back of his scalp. "Will you end as you began? A sickly, cowardly boy?"

The tears rolled painfully down his face. "I will not, blessed Angel." He breathed heavily and painfully.

"What will you do?" She jerked his head when Corvey tried escape her sight.

"I will find it in me. I will find it in me."

"Then you need only await the first light."

"I will."

"Close your eyes, general."

He obeyed her command. When he opened them, he woke with a breath that tried to scream. He scrambled from the simple bed he had been placed in and found himself alone in the bedchamber he shared with Serena. There was no sign of her, but he didn´t need to look long. He needed only open the door and he heard the Lady Blois´ screams.

Grabbing a serf, the young general was quickly led to the birthing chamber. A strange, distant sensation was woken in him. He recalled those screams from something else, but from where he could not be certain. He had been far away when his sister had been born, studying with under his masters to learn strategies and tactics. It somehow went beyond memory, as if he could recall the sensation itself somehow.

When he was led into the birthing chamber and saw Serena, red faced, and screaming, a terror allied with panic blew away the strange sensation he had felt. He was going to become a father. Serena´s love may have always been a lie, but the child was real. He suddenly felt a fear that rose beyond anything he had ever felt before, and what most will ever experience. Would he his child be born before the breaking of first light? Would he be able to see it? Would he have time to hold the child in his arms?

 _Would it perhaps be better if the child never had a chance to see the what would be coming?_ The thought was only a small impulse, but it still lingered in his mind. Serena screamed, and the young general took her hand in comfort. Her grip was so hard he feared she might crush his hand.

 _How can the Emperor be so cruel?_ He asked even though he knew the answer. The Emperor was rewarding Corvey with what he deserved. _I don´t deserve this. I don´t deserve this chance. I don´t deserve to love what is alive in Serena´s belly._

Serena went on like this for what Corvey thought hours. He could have told them at any time. He needed only order for quill and parchment, and he could have ordered them to take Serena away. Taking both her and the child to safety.

 _They could be taken far away from judgement._ Corvey thought before he remembered there was escaping the Emperor´s ever watchful eye. _There is no escaping it. I can run, let them flee. But I will only be labeled as a greater coward._

Sunken, Corvey sat by Serena´s side, staring out through the window into the black clouds that loomed above. Though Serena kept screaming, and the serfs kept trying to ease her pain, Corvey soon became dulled to it. _The Inquisitor knew all along. He knew what Serena was. He saw it, and I didn´t._

Plummeting like a falling star, a distant ember fell through the clouds, leaving a blazing trail in its path. It looked so distant yet was closer than Corvey thought. He looked at Serena, her face viscously reddened and shining with sweat.

 _Emperor, you have granted me a small mercy. Forgive me, but I will use it to grant one of my own._ Corvey opened the buttons on his jacket, tore it of his shoulders and threw it over Serena´s face. The serfs and chambermaids looked at him in confusion, but Corvey stood before Serena, and none of them dared to move. He stared between Serena´s legs and could see the head of his child.

The ground trembled. A blazing light birthed a shadow from Corvey that stretched across the room. The window shattered into thousands of sharp crystals. The flames melted them before they could touch the ground.

 ** _Authors note:_**

 _Grettings once again, dear readers. It would seem we have reached the second year anniversary. It is a strange feeling, to go on for so long. But who knows, maybe things I write in the future will go on for longer. I will apologize for the slow updates, but my duties have brought my attention elsewhere. But regardless we are approaching the end. Soon enough...  
_


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